Miles Apart - Sam Kiszka x OC fanfic

EPILOGUE

This truly is it. Thank you for all the love, the tears, and the community we've had the pleasure of creating and experiencing together. I love you all so dearly. Thank you.
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It had been a long time since I'd felt any sense of normalcy. Today marked 2 years since Lilliana had passed, thus meaning it had been nearly two years since everything fell apart. Jake never came back, nor did Danny, and Josh... he kind of just shut off. He lived just a block away from Sam and I's house, but he'd been off on a silent retreat for what felt like forever. He'd truly gone mad, and I don't blame him. Greta Van Fleet as a band had fallen apart, and as a family, they'd completely dissipated, leaving The Peaceful Army to fend for themselves. I still, to this day, have journalists showing up at my house demanding answers on what had happened, but I'm legally bound to not share our story -sorry- Lilli's story. All they know is that the band broke up for personal reasons and that the boys are all still on good terms. It might not be true, but in this case, ignorance is bliss. The fans don't need to feel the pain that Sam and I feel every day. We, as a business, as a family, couldn't do that to them.

As for Sam and I... well, see for yourself.

"Did they go down okay?" I asked as Sam collapsed onto our shared bed, rolling over to curl into his chest once he'd settled himself under the covers.

"Yeah, they miss you though," he nodded, a familiar yet spacey look in his eyes.

"They're not even 2. They won't remember who tucked them in each night when they're older," I defended, immediately pulling myself away from my husband and crossing my arms over my chest.

"They need a mom, Bella."

"Well, I'm not their mom," I snapped, "and you aren't their dad. They're going to realize that at some point."

The brunette boy merely sighed, knowing that this wasn't a fight he'd ever win.

"Listen, I know today is hard for you but... I- I just wish you cared a bit more," he shrugged, pulling his shirt over his head before turning off his light and relaxing on the mattress.

"I do care, I ju-"

"You don't, though," he dryly chuckled, sitting right back up from his laid position.

"You know I do," I defended, my voice raising a bit louder.

"I know you care about them as people, but they're our kids now. You should care for them like they're your own. Ever since Jake left, I-"

"Ever since Jake left, I've felt nothing, Sam. You know that. I've tried and tried and fucking tried to pull myself together, but I can't do it. I can't care for them because, quite frankly, nothing fucking matters to me anymore," I rambled, trying to keep my voice quiet, "and I hate myself for it. You know I fucking hate myself for it."

"It's not your fault. You have to realize that," he sighed, pulling me into him after I flicked my light off.

"But isn't it though?" I softly cried, "I'm the one who yelled at him that day. I told him he was a coward; that he was selfish. I basically gave him an ultimatum. Doesn't that make it my fault?"

"No. He's an adult. He made his choice. That's not on you, baby," Sam consoled, carefully wiping the tears from my cheeks.

"I guess," I sighed, rolling over to avoid Sam's face as I tried to cut the conversation off. 

He didn't question it. This seemed to be the way our nights ended recently.

"Do you hate him?" Sam sadly whispered after a couple of minutes had gone by.