30.

1.5K 53 1
                                    

C H R I S T I N E

Matthew carried me bridal style towards his bed. He had just helped me into his clothes and I felt slightly better than before. He laid me down carefully and planted a kiss on my forehead. I reached for his hand and intertwined my fingers with his. Warmth spread through me as his eyes looked at me with so much love and adoration that I almost carried again.

"Thank you so much." My voice was barely above whisper.

"Anytime, baby." He smiled softly at me and for a second everything was okay again. I tugged him towards me and scooted to the side so he could lay down beside me. I laid my head on his chest and listened to his rhythmic heartbeat that lured me slowly in dreamless, peaceful, much needed sleep.

When I wake up again, the sun was shining through the curtains and Matthew wasn't on the bed next to me. I blushed beet red as I remembered what happened yesterday. I wasn't in my right mind last night, I shouldn't have let him undress me like that but again I didn't care, quite honestly I felt safe. I didn't feel exposed nor uncomfortable under his touch, it felt normal, right even.

I decided to get up before my thoughts ran a head of me. I cuffed the bottom of the sweatpants and walked towards the kitchen where it was most familiar to me. I didn't expect Matthew to be there, I thought he would have gone to work but I was pleasantly surprised.

I entered the kitchen with a fraction of a smile on my lips as I looked at him while he made himself a cup of coffee.

"Morning." I said. My voice was hoarse from all the crying I have done this week.

"Good morning, baby." He grabbed my waist and pulled my towards his chest. He kissed my forehead before beaming at me. I chuckled softly at his expression.

"Ah, I missed that noise." He kissed my forehead again before turning back to his coffee.

"Matt, thank you," I paused. "For everything." I smiled as my chest filled with so much gratitude and love for him. It temporarily erased the hurt and grief that I've been feeling for the past week.

"You don't need to thank me, I know you would have done the same for me," His hand found its way onto my cheek. His thumb rubbed my cheeks gently causing butterflies to erupt in my stomach. "Actually, you have already done that." He smiled again and I felt my heart beat again.

I didn't want to ask him for help and I wasn't the one to do so with anybody. I barely asked my bestfriend or my mom for it despite trusting them with my life. After losing the only person I truly lived for, I needed to let other people in. Losing my mom taught me that life is fragile and quite honestly I don't think I can do it alone no matter how much I convinced myself otherwise. I have been carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders and I've grown tired of it. I need help with it until I can get myself back on my own feet again, until I'm as strong as before but for now I've decided that I needed help.

"Matthew, I don't want to burden you," I inhaled sharply. "But I need your help." Exhaled.

"Anything for you, peaches." He ran his hand through my tangled brown hair.

"Can you help me with the funeral arrangements?" I asked, nervousness pooled in my stomach before it disappeared at the sight of his small smile.

"Of course, I will. I've got your back through all of this." Another flood of gratitude and love for him hit in full force and I found myself wrapping my arms around his neck. He automatically wrapped his arms around my waist and hugged me till every broken piece went back into her place.

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

The funeral was two weeks ago. And it has been exactly one month since I lost my mom. I finally comprehended the idea with the help of a therapist that was suggested by my cardiology doctor after I passed out again at the end of the funeral. The doctor was afraid that I'm going to drive myself into heart failure, I reluctantly accepted, it took some convincing from Matt and Jenny.

I haven't been to the apartment since the day I left. The therapist suggested that I go there and try to tidy mom's things, in other words clear them out. I wasn't ready to do that just yet but I decided that sleeping in my apartment alone won't hurt or at least I hoped not. I bid my goodbye to Matt and thanked him over and over again. Ryan drove me back there and kept a light conversation flowing to ease my nervousness.

"Call me if you need a ride back or anything else, okay?" He smiled encouragingly and I squeezed his forearm with a smile of gratitude. Ryan has also been a great help alone with Matt, Max and of course Jenny. I don't know what I would have done with out them. I waved goodbye as he got back into the car. He waited for me to enter the apartment building before driving away.

The apartment was in the same shape as before. A little more dusty and unbearably could. I turned the heater on and hang my coat on the hanger. I took off my boots and walked towards the small closet that contain the cleaning supplies. I gathered what I need and went straight to work with a thought on my mind.

I wiped clean the surfaces and vacuumed the carpets. I did the dishes and put a laundry batch in the washing machine. I changed my bed spread and sheets. I tidied my clothes and arranged them in the closet. When I reached my mom's room I took a deep breath and walked inside confidently but my confidence crumbled as soon as I took the room in. Memories of that night resurface and a new round of tears hit me but I didn't let them fall. Mom wouldn't want that. She wouldn't want to see me sad so with that in mind I began to work again. I collected all the things she would give away and put them in boxes. I collected all things that I would like to keep and held emotional value. I dusted the what needed dusting and cleaned what needed cleaning. I took a few seconds to inhale her clothes to engrave her smell in my memory. She was my home, my everything and I owe her my life but she's gone now and I have got to go on with life.

My therapist said that I don't have to forget her to move on. I only have to accept and move on from her death, that life altering moment. She is always going to be a piece of me, a piece of how I am and nothing will change that but instead of viewing her death as a catastrophe, I should view it as another chance at peace. I knew deep down mom wasn't really happy and her cancer took everything from her and if she was still alive, it would be only in pain, hurt and sadness. I didn't want that for my mom. And instead of replaying the dark moments of her death, I should remember her when she laughed, smiled and spoke with such wise and encouraging words. She's at peace now and that was enough for me even if it had to be away from me.

I went through her nightstand and in the drawer I found something that took my breath away. A letter. Addressed to me.

The Recipe To A Millionaire's Heart | ✓Where stories live. Discover now