AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The empty house was the last straw. Large rooms and multiple stories, plenty of space and no one to share it with. It seemed to be mocking me with its quiet. I walked over to the water, my thoughts rattling around in my head, a disjointed mess of words that just wouldn't settle. Mixed in with the potent fear and worry about Becca's sudden disappearance.
Where the hell was she? I couldn't stay in the house alone. Mark would obviously be spending the night at Natalie's. And Steve wasn't talking to me now.
When the sun set over the water and darkness washed over the sky and then the earth, I went back to the house, turned on the TV for some noise and realized just how much I was to Becca's presence.
The house would have been filled with the sound of laughter and playing. Becca and Mark giggling together over some project they were handling together while I researched possible businesses to invest in. And when Mark went up to bed, Becca and I would be exploring our bodies in the shower or maybe in bed.
It was shameful that I had given all that up and hurt the woman who gave me all of that in the process. And all because I was scared. I had hurt her because I feared being hurt myself.
After Sarah's death, I had detached myself from feelings and emotions and dwelled solely on my son. But that pain had never gone away, every day, it came back to haunt me. And there were the issues of my recurring nightmares, I couldn't let Becca deal with that type of baggage. But I missed her, and I wanted her and if Steve was right, then she wanted me too. That was all I needed.
Lingering Longings
Becca's POV
Soft morning light spilled through the kitchen windows, illuminating the space with a gentle warmth. My eyes still heavy with sleep, I slowly descended the staircase, my footsteps echoing softly.
When I reached the bottom of the stairs, the familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon wafted through the air. The sound of laughter and conversation filled my ears, drawing me closer to the heart of my family's morning routine.
I entered the kitchen, my presence greeted with welcoming smiles. My parents are seated at the table, engrossed in conversation, while my younger brother Ryan hungrily devours a plateful of flapjacks. The room hummed with a sense of comfort and familiarity.
My mom noticed my arrival and beams at me. "Good morning, sleepyhead," she said, her voice filled with affectionate teasing. "Breakfast is ready whenever you're ready to join us."
I managed a tired smile in return, my footsteps guiding me toward the table. I take a seat, the worn wood beneath my fingers grounding her in the present moment. The familiar sights and sounds of the family breakfast routine offered a temporary respite from the weight of my worries. We always had breakfast together, way before mom and dad moved here, breakfast had always been a family affair.
Dad pushed a plate towards me, piled high with a steaming stack of flapjacks and a side of crispy bacon. "We saved you a spot," he said, his eyes filled with paternal pride and concern. "You need your energy, especially now."
I nod appreciatively, my appetite awakening at the sight of the delicious spread before me. I pick up my fork, the clinking sound breaking the silence as I dive into my breakfast, savoring the familiar flavors.
I placed the cup on the table and ran my hands over my stomach. I'd be fat before I got back home at this rate. Mom had made it her duty to make sure I had breakfast as early as possible every morning. We had just concluded a breakfast of flapjacks and my stomach felt full. As usual.
"Do you want a second helping?" Mom asked.
"A piece more and I'll burst,” I replied. Dad was still gobbling up the rest of the food on his plate. He had come down before me, but he ate a lot more than I did. As did my brother, Ryan. He was in his sophomore year, and he seemed to have discovered the lost art of eating.
"Ryan, you can have my share,” I said to him. He pulled the plate towards him and almost inhaled the meal.
While Ryan devoured the remaining food on my plate, I couldn't help smiling at his voracious appetite. It was a stark contrast to my lack of enthusiasm for eating lately.
I placed my hands on my slightly bulging belly once again, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. The baby inside me was growing, and with each passing day, the reality of becoming a single mother became more apparent. While I had made peace with the idea, there were moments when the weight of it all pressed down on me, making it hard to breathe.
Mom glanced at me with concern etched on her face, her motherly instincts on high alert. "Becca, are you feeling, okay?" she asked, her voice laced with worry.
I mustered a weak smile. "I'm fine, Mom," I reassured her, not wanting to burden her with my emotional turmoil. "Just a little tired, that's all."
Dad, having finished his breakfast, leaned back in his chair, content and satisfied. "Well, Becca, you're eating for two now. It's important to keep up your strength," he advised, his eyes twinkling.
I had finally told dad about the baby; he hadn't been too happy about my being here without Hunter in tow. He had growled and stomped and tried calling Hunter, but I hadn't let him.
I hadn't spoken to Hunter since I had travelled back here. Not that he hadn't been calling. I just didn't feel I was ready to talk to him.
As the breakfast table was cleared, Mom walked over to me and gently placed a hand on my shoulder. "Becca, I know it's hard, but have you thought about talking to Hunter?" she asked, her voice soft and compassionate.
I sighed, feeling the weight of conflicting emotions. "I miss him, Mom, but I can't bring myself to answer his calls," I admitted, my voice filled with a mix of longing and determination. "I've made my decision to raise this baby on my own. I just need to find the strength to stick to it."
If Hunter felt he couldn't love my baby, then that was his loss. I was going to put my all into loving and training him or her. He or she would never long for anything, not affection and not care. Not that his decision didn't hurt, it hurt a lot to realize that a man who said he cared actually did not.
Mom's eyes brimmed with understanding as she hugged me tight. "You're stronger than you know, sweetheart. And we'll be here for you every step of the way," she whispered, her words soft. She gave me a little kiss on my head.
