Time Flies (Book 4) [l. hemmings]

Chapter 6

hello I hope this is good

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Michael's P.O.V.

It's just another one of those fucking days.

I can feel this emotional pain physically.

Melissa was my whole world, and she gave me Ella.

Is it bad that sometimes I wished I was with Melissa? I don't wanna be here without her by my side through everything.

But Ella.

Most people would push through for their kid, but it pains me every time I look at Ella all I see is Melissa.

I spend a lot of my time just laying around, sometimes crying.

That's why Ella is always at one of the guys places.

I'm such a shitty dad.

There's a knock at my bedroom door and my little girl walks in and climbs onto my bed.

"Daddy?" She asks, sitting on top of me. "You okay?"

"Yea, I'm okay." I weakly smile.

"You look sad." She states.

"I'm happy, look." I say, putting on a fake smile.

"Daddy.." She says.

She moves, so she's laying on my chest, her face right in front of mine.

"Be happy." She demands.

"Ella." I chuckle.

"I love you." She smiles.

"I love you too." I reply.

She presses a kiss to my cheek and I smile, wrapping my arms around her.

"You know I love you a lot, right?" I ask.

She nods, cuddling into me.

"I still love mummy a lot." She quietly says.

"I still love mummy a lot too." I mumble, trying not cry.

Anytime Melissa is brought up, especially if it's Ella bringing her up, I have to try so hard to make sure I don't cry.

"You miss her?" She asks.

"A whole lot baby, a whole lot." I mumble.

She yawns, "I'm still tired."

"Go to sleep, El." I whisper.

She moves off of me to beside me, right where Melissa would sleep every night.

Everything reminds me of her. Every single thing makes me think of her.

Ella falls asleep almost immediately, and I sigh, rolling out my bed.

I go downstairs and head to the one thing I shouldn't be going for.

Alcohol.

I grab a few bottles, going to sit on the sofa and lay all the bottles next to me.

"I hate myself." I mutter as I pop open the first of many.

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"L-Luke." I mumble into the phone.

"Dear god, Michael." He mutters.

"I'm drunk." I state.

"I can tell. Do I need to come get Ella?" He asks.