Some people live to be one-hundred years old. They live a complete and fulfilling life before residing to a hospital bed, surrounded by all the people that ever loved them. Everybody gets to hold their hand, whisper their last goodbyes, and maybe even share one last laugh. It's expected, like the ending to a bitter-sweet story.

 That's how I expected death to be, or more accurately, my incredibly naïve wish for what death would be. However, not everyone gets that. In fact, I think rarely anyone gets that.

Some people only make it to fifty years old and some people even less. Their life ends an incomplete story, and they leave behind all the advice and dreams they could have shared with the world. The things they deserved to have shared.

 Their loved ones don't get to say goodbye. In fact, they don't even know that they are dying until they are dead. It just happens like that. No last laugh, no last hug - nothing. And then everyone has to live with it.

My mother was one of those unlucky ones. She died on January 31st in her bed from a sudden stroke exactly two weeks from today. She didn't get to say goodbye; she died alone. There was no telling of how long she suffered or if she tried to call for help. All my dad told me was that he found her after her suffering was gone.

The irony of that statement was that our suffering had only begun. I was aware of the rough stages of grief - there was the denial, the anger, the what-ifs, and the depression. But I wasn't expecting to feel the emptiness.

Every day since her death, I felt all those emotions bubbled into one, then once the end of the day came, I felt empty - like I wasn't even alive anymore.

And I think I hated that feeling the most. I mean, yes, pain hurts, but at least it was something.

"Sophie," I heard a soft voice echo. 

Pulled out from the dark depths of my thoughts, I turned my attention back to my little brother, Xavier. I gently stroked his hair and looked down at him. 

"Yeah, Bubs," I whispered quietly. He was hoisted up in my arms with his little head resting on my chest. He wore a mini little black suit, that was identical to Calumn's who was standing in between my dad and me.

"Won't Mummy be cold underneath the ground?" he asked softly so that none of the other funeral guests could hear.

 Swallowing, I turned my attention back to the ground and watched as the casket got lowered further down into the ground. Shaking my head softly, I sent him another small yet comforting smile. 

"No, don't worry, Mummy's fine. The cold can't hurt her anymore because she's up in heaven, remember?" I explained softly.

 Xavier nodded his head gently, seeming the tiniest bit more content by my words, but they weren't nearly enough to bring a full smile back to his face.

I mean, how could it? The twins were only five years old yet had already lost their mother. When I returned home two weeks ago, I tried my best to conceal my pain from the twins as did dad. But it was hard, and I don't think we were all too good at it.

Feeling the heat of eyes on me, I glanced around the hilltop at all the other funeral guests, all dressed in black. I recognized most of them - uncles, aunts, cousins, nurses who used to work with my mum. Some of them stared on at the casket, while others sent pitying looks over at our family. The family that didn't have a mother anymore.

My eyes briefly caught Brandon, who was standing across from us with his mum. His lips curved up a little to give me a weak smile. I could tell from the drained looked in his eyes that he must have been struggling to keep an optimistic face. Our families had always been close, so the death of my mother had likely hit them hard too.

The rest of the funeral carried on, and I slipped in and out of concentration barely feeling like I was there at all. I remember sprinkling dirt on the coffin and the twins laying flowers down by the edge, but that was about it.

When it was over, people gradually dispersed, and a few groups of family members came up to us at various times to offer their condolences and kind words. And like I was supposed to, I faked a smile and thanked them for it. I barely registered the words coming out of my mouth, and all my actions felt as though someone else was doing them.

As my dad got pulled into a particularly long conversation with my uncle, my eyes drifted across the hilltop. As a few more guests moved away, a particular figure came into notice, causing me to blink rapidly in shock. It was Nathan. 

My eyes danced over his figure in disbelief, wondering if I was seeing some kind of mirage. He looked incredibly polished with a smart black suit on and a clean-shaven face. Stupidly, I felt my heart leap at the sight of those pastel green eyes that I had grown to love. 

It had been two weeks since I had seen him or talked to him. It wasn't due to his lack of trying because he called me a couple times a day, but I couldn't bring myself to answer. I didn't want him to be kind to me just because of my circumstances.

Nathan, seemingly done with staring, started to make his way over to me in purposeful stride. Licking my lips nervously, I carefully lifted Xavier out of my arms and back to the floor. 

I bent down to his level. "Go hang out with Calum and your cousins for a bit, okay," I said as I gently stroked the back of his head. Xavier nodded his head obediently and soon scurried away.

When I straightened myself up, Nathan stood right before me with his hands dug deep into his pockets and those eyes of his driving right through me.

"Can I talk to you alone?" he asked smoothly, gesturing over to the church behind us.

Without even thinking, I nodded my head. We walked over to the building in silence, and I followed as he led us around the back of the church. I focused on the rhythmic crushing sound underneath my feet as I passed over the fallen dead leaves coated with a thin layer of ice.

Finally, when we were truly in private, he stopped and turned back around to face me.

"Why did you come here?" I asked bluntly before he even had a chance to speak.

He sighed, the air leaving his breath slightly stressed. "I think we both know why I'm here, Sophie. I'm here for you." 

He took a step closer to me. "I can't let you suffer alone," he said, his eyes flickering back and forth between mine.

His presence and words were so comforting that I could have broken down against him right then, but I didn't. I pressed my back further against the church wall and closed my eyes briefly as I tried to collect myself together. 

Finally, I opened my eyes and slowly shook my head, letting out a bitter laugh as I did. "I'm not stupid, Nathan. I know why you're doing this," I said, my voice coming out harsh. 

His eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"I heard you, Nathan....I heard you when you made that stupid promise to my mother. You promised her you'd look after me if she was to go," I said, tears starting to blurb my vision.

 I shoved them away with the back of my coat sleeve in frustration. "Well, it's fine, Nathan. You don't have to keep your promise, okay. She's dead! And besides, she would have never had said that if she knew what I did to you," I spat darkly. 

Nathan stared silently at me, his eyes sinking into mine with an emotion I couldn't quite decipher. I cleared my throat and shook my head. "Look, Nathan, I have to go." Pushing myself off the wall, I turned to go.

Before I got a step away, Nathan grabbed my wrist and spun me around before pushing me back against the wall. "Hold on a second," he said. 

 I let out a shaky breath as he moved closer and shrouded me with his warmth. "I came here to pay my respect to your mother, yes. But my promise to her isn't the reason I keep reaching out to you, okay. I'm reaching out to you, because of you, because I care about you because I worry about you because I need to know that you're okay. Don't you get that?" he said, his eyes searching mine with a frightening intensity.

 "Sophie, I'm going to be honest with you, I never stopped-"

"No, don't finish your sentence," I said, cutting him off. "I'm not getting the easy route out because you feel sorry for me. I'm still the bitch who used you, Nathan. The bitch who only wanted you for your money."

His expression softened. "I read your letter, Sophie."

Confused, I paused. "My letter?" I repeated, my brows furrowing. "How could you have possibly read my letter? You ripped it up at the library," I stammered, feeling beyond confused.

His eyes cast downwards as though embarrassed, and he coughed lowly under his breath before returning his shy gaze to mine. "I...erm, went back for it. After I said those awful words to you back at the library...I, well, I-," he paused, searching for the right words. "Well, I felt bad. You looked so sad, and though I wanted to be mad at you, I couldn't. So, I went back and picked up the pieces and kept them. And it was only after...you went back home, did I actually tape the pieces back together."

Nathan swallowed hard in preparation for what he was about to say. "So, what I'm trying to say is that I believe you now, and I'm sorry," he said, letting the weight of his words hang within the air.

Looking him up and down, I tried to make sense of what he was apologizing for. "Sorry, for what? You didn't do anything."

"Yes, I did do something," he explained forcefully. "Though what you did hurt me, let's not pretend I was innocent and didn't say some nasty things to you first. I was brash and judgmental, and you had every right to hate me. I called you a whore, Sophie," he said, letting out a deep bitter-filled scoff. "Who the fuck says that? I didn't even know you."

The regret in his eyes burned so deeply, it was hard to even look at.

"Sophie, my basic point is that I need to get off my high-fucking horse. And if you're the villain of our story, then so am I," he whispered.

 Slowly, his hand moved up to my cheek, and he brushed away a tear that had unknowingly escaped my eyes. His fingers moved to cup my cheek and traced over the outline of my lips. "Why don't you move in with me?" he said, the words leaving his mouth without an ounce of hesitation.

"What?" I choked out, finally coming to my senses. Had he certifiably lost his mind?

"Brandon told me you were coming back to uni tomorrow, and well, I thought there was no harm in asking. I could give you good meals, and I could drive you to work. And-" he said, the strength to his eyes melting a little. "And, in real honesty, I really miss you."

Despite the way his words made my heart race, I shook my head. "Nathan, you know that's not a good idea. What I did and what you did are miles apart, and you deserve b-"

Nathan grabbed my chin and pulled my lips up to his, drowning out my last words. His lips pressed down on me firmly and made gentle movements against mine, reminding me of all I lost and missed. His hands made a tortuous trail down to my waist and pulled me closer, making my head spin, and my knees go weak.

Finally, he pulled away before I had time to fully register it. "Two weeks," he said, his eyes pacing back and forth between mine. 

"I don't understand?" I murmured, still feeling a little breathless from the kiss. 

"How about I get a trial of two weeks with you living with me, and then we'll see how you feel. Deal?" he asked softly. His eyes beautiful and open, waited patiently for my response.

I'm not sure what possessed me to do it – maybe it had something to do with the fact he kissed the common sense out of me, but whatever the reason, I found myself slowly nodding my head.

The smallest of smiles pricked to my lips. "Deal," I whispered back. 

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Author's note: 

Hope you enjoyed the chapter! 

Last Update: Wednesday (6-8 PM - UK time) :( :(