His Saviour {wmbw}

-Chapter 33-

It was early morning. Chris stepped out his car, he looked up to see the sun begin to slowly set in the sky before closing his eyes shut. After a brief while, he took a deep breath, before turning to head to the direction of the town's graveyard.

He had been up all night fighting battles with himself and dealing with his own inner troubles that he found difficult to escape from.

In the heat of a very unfortunate moment he had ended things with Precious, and he didn't stop to realize what he had done till she had started crying and ran past him. Even after he showed up outside her apartment at One in the morning and saw her turn on the light in her room, he couldn't go in to talk to her. He felt so hopeless and defeated and he hadn't felt this way ever since he tried to end his life. But most of all he felt terrible for hurting her, and he felt worse for not being able to tell her he loved her, because of how he would instantly think back to his Father's death. He had never felt more of a mess.

Moments later, he slowly pushed open the small gate to the graveyard and stepped inside. The gentle breeze blew past him as he strolled over to his father's gravestone. Once he reached it, he slowly crouched down in-front of it as his eyes instantly became hollow.

'Phillip Anthony Dalton... 1969-2019... Dearly beloved Father, Brother, Acclaimed Businessman... RIP...'

That was what was written on his tombstone and as Chris read through it, he couldn't believe it was real. Ever since he found out his dad died a couple weeks ago, he had became hollow and numb, almost like he hoped for it to be some bad dream, but as he sat down on the grass and gazed down at his tomb stone, it began to sink in and hit harder than any pain he had ever experienced.

He thought back to those voicemails he left for him moments before his died. Whenever he thought of it he felt a mix of emotions all at once; anger, resentment, sadness, pain, agony and despair. He wished he didn't bother to leave him anything at all, he would've rather gone on without having to hear him say 'I love you' mere moments before his death. Maybe it would've kept him sane and made him feel like he wasn't losing it. Maybe it would've kept him wondering how the expression on his face would've been if he had said those three words to him face to face. There were an endless of maybes.

And although he had left him $60 million dollars in his will and put him in charge of all his estates, it didn't change anything. The money couldn't bring him back, in-fact it only reminded him even more that he was gone forever and there was no way he could ever have the relationship with him he's always dreamed of and wanted.

After a while, Chris reached inside his pocket to pull out a small picture of his dad. It was dated at the bottom 'December 1988', and he could tell by the extremely wide and happy grin on his face in the picture that it was Cecelia who took the picture. He was truly happy whenever he was with her, and the fact that they never got their happy ending was devastating enough.

He slowly placed the picture on the gravestone and gazed down at it as his eyes began to slowly water by the second. "Rest easy, dad..." he whispered to himself, before hanging his head low, sitting quietly with him until the sun finally set in the sky.

Across town, Precious slowly opened her eyes, groaning quietly at the blinding sun radiating through her curtains. She rubbed her eyes tiredly and yawed, before slowly pushing the covers of her.

It had taken her a while to fall asleep, as she couldn't get over her break-up with Chris and him showing up outside her apartment complex incredibly late afterwards. It had left her overwhelmed, and the pain she still felt from last night was still very much there, in-fact it was much stronger and it took her a while to climb out of bed. She had always though that heartbreak could only affect you mentally and emotionally, but little did she know that it could affect you physically too and also feel like your whole body was slowly breaking down into pieces.