"DO YOU WANT ANYTHING?"
I ASKED, squeezing the towel after soaking in the basin with water. I scrub his face and hair on his neck. I already changed his shirt and I made him change his pants. Thank goodness, he's following me in what I ask him to do.
"Hmm?" I asked again.
He shakes his head, trying to show a smile. I smiled at him and was about to stand up when he placed my hair behind my ear. I left my knees on the mattress until he touched my cheek.
I closed my eyes, enjoying it after a kiss on top of my head was made by him. I turn at him, and he finally looks me in the eye the way he usually looks at me before.
"I'm cooking your dinner, okay?" I finally stood up, getting out of the room.
These past few days, he has progressed. He still cries but not like last week, we both are sleeping beside each other, either a night full of tears or mostly without. He starts eating, and smile often and that's progress for me.
Today, the way he looks at me, I remembered the last time he looked at me like that, and it was before this happened. A little more, and he's going to be back on himself.
Little more time.
And sometimes, Mark brings us food and also makes himself at home. Sometimes he stays with Peter in the room whenever I'm cooking either breakfast, lunch, or dinner.
He's not asleep after coming back from the room. I placed the food between us and sat in front of him.
I take spoons of soup, bathe the rice with it and take a spoon to feed on him, "Did I take too long? But I cook your favorite, and I have to go out to fetch the ingredients come on,"
He opens his mouth, and I place the spoon inside. I was about to give him another spoon, when he took it from me, feeding himself alone. I let him and watch proudly.
The next spoon was for me. He waits for me to open my mouth with a palm under as I process his progress but eventually accepts it. He took turns feeding both of us until I went out of the room, getting my spoon to feed myself.
"Stop! I can feed myself, okay?" I chuckle when he tries to feed me again.
But he was just too stubborn to listen, I let him, and I fed him also. Every time I laugh at us, I can hear how we together laugh, even though in a small laugh only from him.
I finished washing the dishes and decluttering the mess I left in the kitchen before going back into the room. And caught him lying on the bed, so I carefully lay beside him with my back facing him. But I felt a grip on my shoulder, it was his hand.
I look at him, "Sorry, did I wake you up?"
He shakes his head as an answer, but his eyes are closed. I nod and lay next to him. Too close that our body's rubbing against each other.
I TAPPED BESIDE THE BED, feeling no one lay beside me. I looked around the room, and there wasn't a trace of Peter. I searched for Mom's contact on my phone but saw a paper beside me instead.
'I'll be back.
Promise.'
Holding the paper, I sat on the doorstep, waiting for him to come home. I stood up after seeing him walking back. He was carrying a plastic of seven-eleven with him.
I greeted him with a hug, "Where have you gone?"
"I bought food," he showed me the plastic after letting him go, "Breakfast,"
His first four words, after days of not hearing his voice, only his sobs. He sounds rough talking, but still, he's speaking like his old self. He looks like he has already taken a bath and prepared himself.
We're sitting quite, eating breakfast in the living room since this is what he asked. He doesn't seem to like eating in the dining area. I took a share of his food after I tried taking a bite, and he let me. We spend the entire morning watching and talking to him like how I usually do to him.
At lunch, I cooked for us, but someone was distracting me from cooking. It felt like Peter become a judge in a cooking contest. I forked the meat from the pan and gave it to him to have a taste.
"Great,"
I start setting the table with help from him. I was washing my hands when we collided in the sink. I look up at him, and he looks down at me with the water running.
We're interrupted after a voice comes behind us," Lunch..." his tone fades.
It was Mark he had a paper bag with him. It's another take-out meal from him.
I let him in after I washed my hands, "Come here,"
I searched inside the paper bag he brought and brought out the Tupperware inside.
"Mom cooks it. She wants you to try it," he said, pulling a chair for him to sit.
I placed the Tupperware beside the food I cooked and sat between them.
Mark left before dinner even started. He said he had an urgent thing to do instead and said maybe he was interrupting us. I'm glad he was here earlier, though.
We didn't bother to cook for dinner since there were still leftovers from lunch, but I couldn't find the urge to eat I told him I'm full and let him eat instead.
I keep stealing glances at him while he's eating and watching at the same time. The next glance I did was the time he noticed it. I chuckled at him as he raised his eyebrows, laying down on his lap.
I felt a kiss on my temple while watching the movie with him. Marvel.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Nothing, I'm just... thinking that..." I pulled out his one vacant hand and played with it.
"That?"
"What if one of us leaves each other?"
"I won't," he answered without a second thought.
"Promise?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Pr-promise,"
I TRIED CRAWLING TO THE OTHER SIDE, and it isn't his lap I'm feeling. I'm laid on the bed. With him. Beside him. Did he just carry me to the bed?
I grabbed my phone and checked for the time. It's currently 1 am. I shoved the hair, covering his face, tucking it into the back of his ear. I told him to cut his hair, it's nearly over the back of his neck.
But this is how I met him, how our friendship started. His hair that doesn't reach his shoulders he likes it long. He loves brownies and binge-watching Marvel movies all over again. And we both love watching the sunset together.
This is it.
"Thank you so much, Peter, for the good and bad memories we had together. This may be the end of us, but this will also start a new beginning. For us, for you,"
I watch him for the last time sleeping, he even moves to another side of the bed, facing me, supposedly.
I stood up, but I heard his voice, "Don't leave,"
I waved at his face to check if he was awake or not. He began searching my space, I placed the pillow instead. He hugs it tight, putting one leg over it. He calmed down, and maybe right now, he's going deep into his sleep, thinking that pillow is me.
I'm sorry, love.
"Chase your dream, Future Engineer. I love you... for the last time,"
I bury my lips into his cheeks until I felt a tear starting to slide through my cheeks. Maybe I'll wake him up.
I slip a note on his pillow and walked out of the room before I could burst out of my tears.
Back home, Mom was sitting alone on the couch in front of the T.V with the light off.
Exhausted, I dropped my body beside her wrapping my arms around her.
She shut the T.V after, "What happened?"
I shook my head and buried my head in her.
"I'm tired," I said after a few minutes of being in her embrace after she hugged me back, too tight compared to mine.
[Peter,
First of all, I'm so sorry for your loss. She's my sister, and she's your mother, and I can say she's the best at doing her responsibility. Even in motherhood, she beats me, even though she was barely by your side while you grew up. I know you're currently having a hard time, we all are. She's the only family I have after your grandparents died. But, as your guardian, your Mom trusted you to me, but I can't leave my family here in London. She opened this up to me and told me, it'll never happen. You're financially and mentally unstable, Peter. I want to help you, provide for you, and don't think of yourself as a burden if you start living with us. My husband agreed on letting you stay here in fact, he was so happy after learning about my decision. He can't wait to have another addition to the family.
I'm giving you this opportunity to start anew, and maybe I could be a Mom to you. It's been so long since the last time I saw you too, maybe you're around 7 or 13 at that time? Anyways, whatever you decide, Peter, I respect that, but if you could, we're glad to accept you as our family. It would be best if you stay with us.
Love,
A. Beth]
I have to do this. He won't let me go if I let him decide for the both of us. I love him that I can let him go like that. If this is being selfish, so be it. I think he needs this, to be away, he needs to find himself.
I promise to take care of him. And he's slowly losing himself, I'm failing my promise if I wouldn't let him go.
He may not look fine for now, but I know he'll heal. It will be much harder for the both of us because maybe he'll start pretending he's alright, but deep down he's not. And eventually, if I didn't let him go, in the end, we'll grow tired of saving our relationship.
"I cook pasta, alfredo pasta! It's your favorite! And to be honest with you..." she takes a bite on her lower lip, "I watched one episode of the movie we're watching,"
I burst out of tears. after trying to hold it on the bus a while ago.
'He promised, but I didn't.
May we find the happiest we both deserve, love, even if it means parting ways.'
:)