Chapter Four

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A/N Dedicated to @halo_saysthewitch because you were the first commenter for this story 🙌

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By the time all the guests showed up, the small house was quite crowded. Phil was never one for big parties and he was really uncomfortable in so much activity especially since everyone was there for him.

He would have felt better with at least one of his close family members with him but his dad was helping serve food, his mother was in a deep conversation with her sister, and Martyn was playing with the baby with their grandma. He didn't want to seem babyish and needy so Phil sat himself down on the couch and watched.

Most people he remembered but the younger the guests got the more hazy Phil's memory of them was. Phil felt like everyone kept sneaking glances at him; pitying the birthday boy who still thought he was 18 in a 29 year old's body.

"What a shame."

"The poor lad."

"At least he doesn't remember the time I spilt wine on his favourite shirt."

Phil stared at his hands and waited. He just wanted the party to be over. Hardly anyone approached him; they only gossiped about him from a distance.

"Great family." Phil grumbled to himself.

"It's time for cake!" his father called and everyone started making their way into the kitchen. "Philly, come on, you have to blow out the candles." he said quietly.

Phil pushed himself to his feet, grabbing his crutches from beside him, and followed his dad out of the living room. After an awkward few moments of singing happy birthday, Phil blew out the cake candles and his mum started slicing the cake. It wasn't anything fancy: just a chocolate cake with a birthday message scrawled out in green icing on the top.

When the doorbell sounded again, everyone seemed to be startled, especially Phil.

"Get that, Martyn?" his mum asked, seemingly more nervous all of the sudden.

Phil watched his brother walk down the hallway towards the foyer. Their uncle had the baby and was making faces at her, earning joyous squeals from the six month old.

"Eat up, Philly." his mother set a slice of cake in front of him. He barely got out a 'thank you'.

The guests started spreading around the house, clearing up the small kitchen which let Phil breathe again. He only picked at the slice of cake with his fork, his mood falling quickly as he was left alone at the table.

He briefly looked up at his brother walking back in the room. Only then did Phil notice that it was only his mother, father, and brother with him in the kitchen.

Suspicious, Phil sat his fork down and watched the very late guest walk in behind Martyn. Phil's eyes went wide at the sight of the brown haired guy from his computer screen now standing in his kitchen.

They made eye contact and Phil quickly shifted his eyes elsewhere. He didn't want to see another saddened look when he admitted he didn't remember him. 

"DADDY!"

Phil looked up quickly to see a little boy running over to him. The brown hair guy had tried to grab the child but had no luck as the boy was now grabbing onto Phil's arm.

"Where were you, Daddy?! I missed you so much!" the boy was beaming and clung onto Phil.

"Wh-What-?" Phil stammered.

"Are you sick, Daddy? Is that why you didn't come home after you visited the doctors?" the boy asked loudly. Everything this child did was loud and Phil had only just laid eyes on him.

"MUM!" Phil called.

"I'm right here, Philip." she whispered and sat down next to him.

"Mum." Phil said sharply. "Who is this?" he turned his head to her, tears forming in his bright blue eyes.

"I'm Max, Daddy. Don't you remember me?" the child answered, his smile falling and his grasp on Phil's arm loosening.

"I-I don't-I-" Phil's breathing was turning shallow and his hands were shaking a little.

"Daniel, take Max home, please. This was a bad idea." Phil's mum whispered sharply. The brown haired man - now labeled as Daniel - walked over, didn't take one look at Phil as he picked up the child, and walked for the door.

Phil stared at the little boy who was looking at him over Daniel's shoulder, icy blue eyes holding their gaze until the two were out the door.

"I'm sorry-" his mother started.

"Don't." Phil's voice broke a little and he got himself out of the chair, failing at holding back his tears as he went up to his bedroom.

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