A Lifetime With You by Athrhteera

Alena

My mind wandered as I placed my hand on my stomach, feeling it empty. It had been a week since giving birth to my beautiful angel baby-he was tiny, yet he was perfect. Too perfect. The doctors considered my condition as a late stillbirth as I was at twenty-eight weeks. Stillbirths were not common but it could happen, I just didn't expect it to happen to me. Matteo and I were very thorough in taking care of my health, ensuring we were providing the best for Marco. We went extra lengths to deliver a healthy baby boy; we wanted nothing more than Marco to come into our lives, bringing the joy we had expected. Every time I touched my stomach, I wished I had felt him. Everything happened too fast.

I

As I sat at the balcony, staring down at the view in front of me, it didn't help one bit to take my mind off of Marco. Matteo and I used to sit here together, enjoying the beautiful view as we talked about our future; where we had included Marco but today, it was just me. No husband. No baby. Just me.

Despite receiving supports from our family, I couldn't help but continue to blame myself. The guilt was gut-wrenching, there were a lot of 'what-ifs' in my mind, making me imagine what might happen or what might have happened if things were different. If I still had my baby with me right now.

A knock on the glass window broke me from my thoughts, causing me to slowly turn and find my husband standing there with a small box.

"Hi," he said, his lips slightly curved up into a smile.

"Can I join you?"

It was nice of him to ask, making sure he wasn't invading my personal space. During times like these, I wanted him near me as much as possible instead of being alone but at the same time, I knew he needed time to process this, too. We were grieving in our own ways. I nodded, matching his smile.

Matteo slowly took his time as he went by to sit beside me, maintaining the slight distance between us.

He was afraid. Yet, he tried.

"I just got back from the office," he cleared his throat. "Brought home quite a lot of flowers. You can come downstairs later if

feel like it."

Teel

you

People were being thoughtful, wanting to show their sympathy. Not much was helpful if they gave flowers, it could only remind me of the loss of my beautiful Marco but they tried, they sent their condolences. I was grateful. "Did you eat?" I asked, looking away.

He continued to stare at me without answering my question; leaving

me to turn and meet his eyes, a frown had appeared.

' "Mama

I had

said you haven't ate anything today. I bought your favourite pasta and I thought we could eat together-"

t him off before he could finish talking, "I'm not hungry.

not hungry, Matteo."

"You haven't eaten anything."

"I don't feel hungry."

"You are hungry. You didn't even finish your meal last night,"

I sighed, "Why can't you just let me be?!"

I hadn't realised the tone of my voice was a bit harsh until he leaned back, making me shut my mouth. Our relationship had

away and been this way ever since we lost Marco and no matter how hard he tried to support me, I kept pushing him hurting him in the process.

Yet, he tried again and again. He ignored his own feelings for the sake of mine.

I swore to myself I had saw the tears forming in his eyes yet he looked away to hide them, making me feel more guilty. My heart wanted to reach out to him, let him hold me in his arms and appreciate his comfort but I ended up doing none of that.

I didn't understand myself either. How could I explain it to him?

"Please let me in, Alena." He breathed out, "I know you need time to process all of this but you can't keep pushing me away. You're grieving but what about me? I'm grieving, too."

My heart felt as if it was being crushed into pieces.

The tears were too much and I had let them fall down my

cheeks. "Matteo.

'You won't let me anywhere near you. You won't let me help you. You won't even let me be there for you. What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to say?" He stood up, taking a few steps away from me as he turned around. Instantly, our eyes met. "He was my son, too." I kept quiet, not uttering a single word.

"I never imagined for this to happen. God knows how much I want to hold him in my arms, every single night. God knows how much I imagine the three of us," he added.

"You don't need to blame me. I know it's

my

fault,"

He frowned, "What?"

"It's my fault he died."

"What makes you say that? None of this is your fault, Alena."

I stood up, taking a few steps towards him. We were standing in front of each other without breaking our eye contact-I could feel the softness in his gaze yet I knew mine were nowhere near as soft, they were burning with fire. I was holding myself back from screaming and tearing everything apart. I held back my rage. Ever since the night Host Marco, I wanted nothing more than to scream.

08.33 Wed,

As loud and as long as I could. Yet, I held everything inside.

сло

3 73%¥ Matteo reached out to grab my hand but I managed to push him away, ignoring his second attempt after that. I knew I was hurting and breaking his heart by pushing him away; I just couldn't stop myself from putting the blame on me and feeling as if nobody could understand.

Out of many people, Matteo was the one who understood the most.

Matteo was right, it was his son as well. It wasn't just my loss but his, too.

He cupped my face, staring into my eyes. "Look at me."

I looked straight into his eyes.

"Leave me alone," I breathed.

"No."

"No?"

No. 1

I'm not going anywhere,"

I pushed his hands away from my face, slightly causing him to stumble. As I took a few steps away, I knew better than to let him be anywhere near me-all of this was only going to cause further arguments in the future. It was best for us to heal on our own, I didn't have to hurt him. "Hove you, Alena. I'm here with you," he added without hesitation.

It was hurtful to hear him say that. Not because I had stopped loving him but because I knew deep inside of me, it was what

I needed to hear. As hard and as much as I tried to push him away, I knew I always needed him here with me.

He cared about me.

He showed me how much he cared.

All I did was ignored his efforts.

I quickly stepped inside and walked down the hallway, ignoring Matteo as he continued to trail behind me. I could hear him calling out my name a few times but I didn't understand what was going on with myself as I hurried down the stairs, reaching down to the bouquet of flowers on the kitchen island. "Alena?" Mama called out, stepping in from the living room.

J

I didn't spare a glance before reaching out to the bouquets and threw them on the ground, causing a mess. I picked them up, throwing them away a few times.

Matteo grabbed a hold of my arms, pulling me close as Mama watched with teary eyes.

"Get these out of the house! I want them out!" I shouted, pointing at the flowers.

"Shh, baby. It's okay, calm down."All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

"Get away

from me!"

"Alena!" Mama exclaimed, surprised by my actions.

Matteo finally let go of my body and I began to take a few steps away from them. They both watched me as if I had lost my mind, as if I was overreacting.

+5)

+5)

08.33 Wed, Oct

Mama stood still at her spot tear stains on her cheeks.

3

I glanced down at my hands, seeing a few cuts here and there from the thorns. Matteo noticed them and he tried to reach out but he decided to remain still, afraid if I was going to lash out again.

It was the look on his face that had broke me the most.

The

dark circles under his eyes were obvious and hollow, he seemed as if he hadn't been sleeping for the past few days. I couldn't tell because whenever I went to bed, he was either in his office or away at work-he came home late ever since we lost Marco, maybe he needed more time on his own.

Then again, I knew how much he cared. I knew how much he wanted to comfort me.

"Get rid of them, please." I muttered, feeling guilty for my behaviour.

"I'll throw them away, baby. I promise," Matteo replied.

Our eyes never looked away from one another as he slowly made his way towards me. Once we were close enough, he began to pull me in for a hug; his hands wrapped around my body, his chin on top of my head and his scent engulfing me.

I closed my eyes as I enjoyed the warmth of his body.

What happened to us?

We were always loving, always together, always one.

Inever raised my voice at him and he never did it, too. How did we

end up here?

I had missed his touch, his kisses and his embrace. I had missed everything about Matteo and I dreaded the distance between us; the distance I had created on my own.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm right here," he whispered.

The rage had left my body.

Yet the guilt remained.