"Life went on, but it was never the same again."

- d. j.

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Three Months After The Funeral

Andrew could remember every single thing. Everything.

She liked red roses. Bouquets of red roses. And strawberry ice cream. With sprinkles. City lights and starry nights. Her favorite color was a sky blue. Sometimes lavender. Her coffee, she always put milk in it. And movies, she'd read the same books and watch the same movies over and over again.

Whenever she was happy, she'd bite down on her lips, making it seem as though she was nervous instead. And when she'd cry.

He knew that better than anything else.

For it seemed that all he'd ever done was made her cry.

Yet, now, he could remember everything.

But the thing was, he didn't want to remember. He didn't want her to be some memory. He wanted her there, with him. He wanted to hold, to hold her and be able to touch her. He wanted to kiss her, over and over again.

And maybe, maybe more than anything he wanted to tell her he loved her. He wanted to prove that he still did.

But he couldn't.

Because she was long gone.

He crouched down, sitting next to her grave, placing the bright red roses on the ground.

"I miss you, Anisha."

He closed his eyes, turning and facing away from the dull sun. His voice cracking, wavering with heartbreak.

"I really miss you. I can't do it. This, all of this, I can't do this."

He stared at the tombstone, his vision blurred with tears. Crying for the woman he'd loved and lost.

"Mira, she really misses you too. She thinks you're a star. Every night before she goes to sleep, she talks to the stars. I...I still read to her every night." He let out a gentle laugh, a pathetic laugh, remembering the times that he'd watch Anisha read a story to Mira. And Mira, she could instead tell her mother a story. "Her vocabulary and sentences are getting better. But she still makes up random words sometimes."

"And She...she...she's still obsessed with Cinderella. You know her blue night light, she broke it the other day and now she wants a new Cinderella one."

"God, fuck Anisha, I can't do this." His chest tightened, broken hearted as he picked a rose, pulling it away from the bouquet he'd placed at her grave.

Picking the petals, he scattered them around, throwing them. Destroying the beautiful red rose.

That was all he ever did.

Destroy and hurt. Everything that was in his way.

"Ryan doesn't even talk to me. That's not it. I just, I don't know how to help him." He mumbled, aware of his strained relationship with his son. "His grades have been dropping. It's not just his math grade; it's his English grade and Art too. I don't know how but he's failing art. I'm meeting with his math teacher on Thursday."

"I...I don't know what to tell him. I'm not a good role model." He looked at the green stem in his hands, no thorns.

"You said you wanted Mira to be nothing like you. And I don't want Ryan to be anything like me." He confessed before tossing the stem aside, the petals he'd thrown aside, ruffled by the gentle wind. "There are enough fuck-ups like me. I...I've tried talking to him. And I get a few word answers.

"God Anisha, I hope Mira is everything like you." A harsh sob escaped his lips as he begged for her, as he begged for things to be different.

"I'm sorry Anisha. I'm so sorry."

That's all he could say. That's all he could feel.

And maybe that's all that was left to him.

A man, of nothing but regrets.

Ten Years Later

(Mira is 18 - Ryan is 23)

Andrew sat down and buried in face in his hands. Time was slow. And the hospital lobby was empty. He'd spent the entire day, all morning, all afternoon, all evening. But not once had he gone into the room.

Because he knew for certain, that he was the last person Ryan wanted to see.

He quickly jerked up, standing up as Mira walked into the small lobby. Swollen eyes, it looked as if she hadn't slept in days.

"How is he?"

Ignoring him, she down on the chair, curling up as she started sobbing.

"Mira."

Hesitantly she looked at him before speaking. She wasn't sure what to tell him. Because the only thing she could say was how pale Ryan looked, how dull he was. How his cheeks were devoid of any color, his eyes hollow. And he didn't smile, it seemed all he did was frown.

"Ryan's asleep. You can see him." She looked down at her hands as another tear fell, mumbling. "He's stable now."

Andrew stared at her heaving, as she leaned back, tears streaming down her face.

He sat down next to her.

Everything around him was a mess. The last twenty-four hours since he'd gotten the phone call from the ER had been hell.

"He's going to be okay." And for a second, it seemed as though he was trying to convince himself. To convince himself more than he was trying to convince Mira.

Because of his broken relationship with his son.

Andrew had tried everything. Hell, he wasn't the best father but he tried, he tried to be a good father. He'd tried to help Ryan, since he first spiraled downwards. But it seemed that everything he did or said or tried was of no use.

Since the day Ryan had moved out, right at the age of 18, he hadn't once spoken to his father. Because whenever Andrew called him, he never picked up. And Ryan, he never came home. Mira had visited him, a few times. And Mira, she called him every day.

But Andrew, he knew very well that his son wanted nothing to do with him.

"Mira, he's going to be okay." He repeated, trying to sound a little more reassuring this time around.

"No he's not!" Andrew flinched as she screamed at him. Her voice cracking. She pulled on the gray sleeves of her sweater. Rubbing her eyes, wiping away the tears.

"He almost overdosed." Her voice was a whisper. She didn't want to admit it. Because he was still her brother. Even after all the mistakes he kept making.

"He's on fentanyl again. He relapsed. He relapsed again."

She stared shaking, sobbing again. She looked at him, blurry eyes, whimpering before reaching over and holding onto him. She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him.

"Dad, he's going be okay right? Ryan's going to be okay?"

Andrew nodded, faintly, holding onto her as she cried.

"Ryan's going to okay. He's going be fine, Mira."

And that's all he could tell her.

Because truthfully he wasn't too sure himself.

18 Years Later

(Mira is 25 - Ryan is 30)

Andrew looked up from the stack of papers as Mira flopped down, sitting on the couch.

She reached for the TV remote, turning on the TV before eating a spoonful from the bucket of ice cream.

He put aside the bank statements before looking at his daughter. Because he could tell that she was hurting. As much as she pretended to be okay, as much as she pretended to be strong, she wasn't.

He tried to start a conversation with her. But with his own failed marriage, he wasn't sure what else to tell her.

"Aaron stopped by today."

She didn't even flinch or react in any way. She stuffed another spoon of Rocky Road Ice Cream before nodding, turning her attention back to the movie she was watching.

"I know. He texted me. The papers are going to be ready by next week."

"Mira."

"The divorce is final." She looked at him, her eyes void of any emotion. And her voice, it was cold, final. "We're getting a divorce."

Sighing, he hesitated, unsure as if he should tell her everything Aaron had told him today. Andrew glanced at the movie, 27 dresses. The same movie that Anisha had been obsessed with.

"He still loves you." He barely stuttered. Because he, he'd loved Anisha. But then he'd ruined his own marriage. And now, now his daughter was doing the same. .

"It doesn't matter. We're getting a divorce."

"Mira."

He stopped as she stood up, letting out a dry laugh.

"Stop." Her voice bitter, just like the rest of her.

"You know dad, to be honest, you're the last person I want advice from right now."

She shook her head, turning off the TV and tossing the remote aside. "After everything that happened between you and mom, I really don't want your advice especially if it has anything to do with my marriage."

And for a second, her eyes softened as she stared at him. "I don't want to be like her. I don't want to end up heartbroken and alone like mom but that's exactly what happened, isn't it. I know he still loves me. And I still love him."

"But sometimes love isn't enough. It just isn't enough. I need a divorce. I need it."

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Lol I have a ochem midterm on Monday and I'm supposed to be studying but I wrote this instead #donttellmymom