Oh look, an update that didn't take a year!

I feel like no one is reading these introduction segments, so I'm just going to cut to the chase. Hope you guys enjoy.

Chapter 5

Home Sweet Home

Monday, May 9th, 2016

11:58 AM

My head hurt. Everything felt so needlessly hot and stuffy and sticky. My hair was scattered all over my face. I could barely move my body. And I didn't know if I wanted to.

Moaning, I forced myself to open my eyes- even they felt heavy. What time was it . . .? Oh wow, nearly midday already? It felt so much earlier than that. And I still felt so exhausted. I guess sudden plane trips, mild hangovers and a whole lot of stress didn't mix well.

I blinked sleepily, and my eyes were greeted by golden rays beaming through green leaves. The rustling trees, the birds singing. No sand . . . no sea. We were home alright. In the luxury house we had bought together.

Then why was I here on my own?

Well I kind of knew why. But I still didn't like it.

My body still wouldn't move. My eyes fell down on the other side of the bed in front of me. The side of the bed that should have been occupied. The thought of it made me croak. This bed was too big for one person. And I felt kind of smothered.

I had to get up. I heaved myself out of the bed in my oversized white T-shirt. The parts of the shirt that didn't stick to my body sagged over it. It made me sigh. An old T-shirt and some dull baggy shorts did not scream romantic millionaires who were just married. Especially when the husband was nowhere to be seen.

As I padded down the oak wood flooring, I thought to myself thank God we had bought a big house with extra bedrooms. The idea of Mike sleeping on a couch . . . ugh, thinking about it felt so wrong.

I had tried to get him to share the bed with me last night. I'd insisted, I'd begged, I'd told him how much I loved him, that I trusted him. And I'd sorely meant all of it. But Mike had insisted it was for my own safety. Even when I thought I'd manage to settle him down for the night, he must have fled the moment I dozed off.

Sure, I wanted to feel safe. But more than anything, I wanted him.

I stood outside the wooden door, knowing that Mike would be on the other side. I gave it a few quick little taps, trying to knock it hard enough that he would hear but not not in a way that might startle him.

I withdrew my hand. I waited. I used my hand to fix my tangled hair in place.

No response.

Slowly, I brought my knuckles to the door to tap it again. I added a call of "Mike?", again monitoring my voice so it didn't sound too loud or demanding. When I still didn't get a response, I called his name again, trying to find a way to project my voice but keep it soft at the same time.

"Mike?"

Still nothing. I slowly brought my hand down to the doorknob, almost afraid to open the door. As I took the knob, I listened out for a response. For a split second, I thought I heard him say something, but it was so meek and so muffled that I couldn't catch a word. It sounded like he was talking in his sleep. At the very least, I knew he was still in the house. That alone filled me with some relief.

As I tipped the door open, I heard snoring, and I knew he was still in a real deep sleep. I pushed the door open a little more and saw him laying on the bed, almost motionless apart from the rhythmic rise and fall of the chest. His arms sprawled out in front of him. He was completely dead to the world.

I couldn't help but admire how handsome he looked, even with his old black T-shirt and his mouth hanging half open. The only thing I didn't like seeing was the sight of the plasters around his right eye. The small areas that didn't have plasters on them had a hint of black and blue. It made my stomach sink a bit.

Swallowing back my guilt, I approached his bed and crawled in under the sheets. He barely budged, but I heard a slight croak from him as I wriggled my way into his arms. That got a flinch out of him. I froze where I was, pleading in my mind that he wouldn't pull away. But then he sighed. And he settled back down. Even making a drowsy attempt to pull me into him. I decided to save him the trouble and shuffle up to him, taking his head in my hands, pressing my body against his. He didn't open his eyes, but the corner of his mouth shifted upwards ever so slightly.

"Hey," I whispered, pulling him in for a kiss. It brought me back to our honeymoon hut. We had spent so little time there and even less time back home, but I missed it already. No, scratch that. I think I missed being in that hut with him.

I felt a lump in my throat and kissed him again, allowing him to rest his head on my chest, while I cradled him in my arms, running my fingers through his hair.

"You doing okay?"

He rubbed his head against my chest, letting out a clearer moan. "I'm alright."

The two of us stayed there for a while. I nuzzled my face against his hair. It was so spiky and bristled and yet so soft to the touch. I ran my thumb along his face, relishing in being able to touch him again.

"I love you, Mike . . ."

I felt him sink into me a bit. Feeling that soft weight of him on top of me was so comforting. As if to reinforce what I just said, I gave him a loving kiss on the forehead.

"I really mean that," I whispered, and I heard him sigh underneath me.

"Thanks."

I squeezed him in my arms, wanting to tell him that he didn't have to thank me, but I decided to let it go. I could only imagine the relief he must be feeling that I was still here with him after everything that had happened. His personalities appearing again, the wave of depression he had felt, frantically cutting our honeymoon short after- I shook off the thought.

"You hungry?" I asked, and I felt him shift around a bit. He groaned a bit, quieter than the last one, but said nothing. I nudged him slightly with my thumb. His body felt slightly heavier, his chest rising noticeably more than last time. He seemed to have fallen back asleep.

I was getting drowsy myself. I let a weak chuckle escape from me as I looked forward to falling asleep with him for the first time in too long. I blinked heavily, letting out a small yawn. I nuzzled into him, his hair brushing my cheek. I felt a pleasured smile creeping along my face.

And then we were rudely interrupted by the shrill sound of the phone.

Really?

I rolled my eyes and dragged myself away from him with a tut. I felt Mike lifting himself upwards as much as he could to make it easier for me. Even in his sleep, he always had to go out of his way for me. I thanked him with one last kiss on the forehead before hurrying out for the phone.

Who was even calling us?

I ran through a whole load of excuses in my head as to why I didn't want to do an interview, why my phone was working fine, why I didn't need to give any bank details. Or when all else failed, I could always use the bad signal excuse. That could work. And then I could go back to Mike.

Feeling confident in my excuses, I took the phone and brought it to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Zoey! Hi!" It was a voice that I immediately recognized, and one that made me stiffen for more reasons than one.

"Mo- Mom!"

Wait, why was I responding? She was calling our house phone. Our house phone! I hadn't even told her what had happened with our honeymoon, nor had I any plans to. Oh God. I gritted my teeth, dreading what she would say next.

"You're home early. Is everything okay, love?"

"Why didn't you call my mobile?" I asked. I was genuinely confused as to why she didn't. She knew we were out on our honeymoon. Well, we were out on our honeymoon . . .

"I tried calling you on your mobile first, but of course, you always have it on silent. So I called you here. I was talking to a friend. You know, the one I used to go to school with. Anyway, she rang me saying she was at the airport, checking in for her vacation. And she says she thought she saw you and Mike, definitely on your way home." I heard her pause to take a breath. Her voice went from that cheerful sociable nurturing tone to a lower one, full of concern.

"Is everything alright with you?"

"Ye- yeah, everything's fine!" I winced at pausing and stuttering. And then I kicked myself for saying the F word.

"Are you sure?" My mother didn't sound convinced at all. The worry in her voice only made me more nervous.

"Yeah I am!"

"You and Mike didn't have a fight, did you?"

"No!" My voice nearly cracked.

"No other . . ." I heard my mother clear her throat. "No other characters came up?"

"What do you mean?" I know perfectly well what you mean, Mom.

"Did any personalities appear?" My mother was trying her best to sound as kind and as polite as possible. It made it all the more harder to lie to her.

"Mike's . . . good," I forced out. "He was just, uh . . . homesick."

Homesick? Really Zoey? Knowing Mike and his issues with his parents, he's probably the last person to feel any sort of homesickness.

"Right," my mother said very slowly, deliberately dragging it out so I could hear how unconvinced she was. "Now, there are some other things I wanted to speak to you about, if that's okay."

"Okay . . ." I murmured hesitantly. Even married and living alone, I knew I was in for a lecture of some sort. Maybe it was because my mother had been home so rarely during my childhood that she was finally seeking every opportunity to be a real mom, lectures and all.

"I know that you and Mike still have a good bit of a million dollars, but that's not going to last forever. Your father and I are always there to support you, but you need to start looking at college courses that'll set the path for a solid career. A few homemade clothes will only earn you a little bit. That's not enough for a nice house like yours, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." I nodded. Deep down I knew, but it was kind of irritating to be reminded.

"Will you think about it?" My mother was using a sweet tone on me. It was that kind of tone that sounded like it was pleading but yet it was so assertive. A tone that I had yet to master.

"Sure." At the end of the day, my mother was right. Mike and I did need to start considering career paths. But I was so unsure of what I wanted to do . . .

"Oh, Zoey? I hope you don't mind me asking, especially now that you're married . . ."

"Go on?" I lowered my eyebrows a bit. What else could she possibly ask now? I waited for her question. It sounded like she was taking her time to choose her words carefully. My mother was one for keeping things modest.

"You're young Zoey and you have plenty of time to enjoy life and find a stable career. So . . . are you and Mike being careful?"

What?

"Sorry?"

I heard my mother swallow back before awkwardly repeating her question. "Are you and Mike being safe?"

Oh GOD.

"Of course we are!" I laughed, clasping my hand over my mouth. I flicked a glance behind me. First Mike, now my own mother. What are you doing?!

"Are you now? Zoey love, I don't mind you and Mike having . . . moments, but it's important to be-"

"We are being-" I almost scoffed. "Careful. Nah, it's all good. I- if you like, I can visit you and Dad sometime this week." I straightened a little. "Will you tell Dad I said hello?"

"I will, love. We're always here for you. Missing you loads."

My heart melted.

"I miss you too."

"Okay then I'm gonna go then. Take care of yourself, love. Will you?"

I nodded, letting out a sad little sigh. "Yeah, I will. Bye."

"Bye, Zoey."

And then she hung up. I was left with the phone drooping in my hand. I was more than used to being without my parents. But something about that phone call made me miss them even more. I knew my parents missed me. I knew they regretted not spending more time with me growing up. And part of me wanted to be back home with them. But I had another love in my life who needed me even more.

I made my way back down to the bedroom, only to see Mike in his black shirt and a pair of long light blue shorts. He was kneeling over his suitcase, digging through his clothes for an outfit. I watched on as he pulled out a fedora. He stopped. He stared at it for a moment. He then heaved a heavy sigh, twirling it around in his hands. He looked up at me, his eyes shimmering with sadness.

"I was looking forward to being able to wear these without Manitoba interrupting."

I sat down at the end of the bed, scooching over to the edge so I could place a comforting hand on his shoulder. My eyes fell on the plasters around his right eye. They made me feel nauseous.

I swallowed back the sickly feeling. "How does your face feel?" I needed to know. I hurt him that night and I hated it. I wish I could kiss it all away.

He responded with a weighted shrug. "It's alright." He made a straining sound as he stood up and stepped over the suitcase so he could sit beside me. I pushed myself back on the bed and crawled behind him so I could massage his shoulders.

"I'm really sorry I-"

"No, you did the right thing." I felt a shudder from his shoulders. "I can't believe he nearly-" He clasped his hands into his mouth, exhaling all his emotion into them. I wrapped my arms around his chest, taking his wrists in my hands. I nuzzled my face into his shoulder, planting my lips on the skin of his neck. I prayed he wouldn't start crying.

"Who was that on the phone?" he asked. It was changing the subject, but neither of us minded.

"That was Mom. She was just talking to me about college and stuff."

And stuff.

"Yeah, that makes sense," Mike murmured. "Do you know what you'd like to do?"

I genuinely had no idea. I knew my heart lied with sewing and Indie theatre, but deep down, I knew that my mother was right. It wasn't enough for us, especially with our luxury house. I knew I wanted to help people, but I didn't know how I wanted to help them. Part of me leaned towards medicine or nursing, but I doubted I would be clever enough for that.

So all I could do was shrug.

"Are you still gonna sign up for that psychology course?"

It was Mike's turn to give me his own shrug. "Yeah, I'd still like to do it. Would definitely help me to understand myself more . . . and why everyone else is suddenly coming back." He chuckled, but it was a sad chuckle. "If I don't get that, there's always theatre." He let out another brief laugh: a wheeze that sounded like he was in pain. "Or, maybe there are more reality shows looking for someone good for stirring up drama. I hear they pay well."

He was trembling. His voice croaked. I hastily extended my arms as far as they would go around him, squeezing him as hard as I could. Leaning over his shoulder, I began scattering kisses all over the side of his face, even the sore parts. With each kiss I gave him, the trembling slowed down again. I felt him taking up my arms in his hands.

"I'm sure you'll have no problem finding something," I reassured him. "Who wouldn't offer you a good course? You've got all the smarts. And you're the sweetest thing. You could use your experience to help others." I gave him another big encouraging squeeze. "You'd make a great psychologist."

He sighed again. The only thing I could say about it was that it wasn't as sad as the last few. I gave him another kiss, hoping it would perk him up a bit more. As I pulled away, I think I finally saw a bit of a smile.

"Thanks, Zoey. You're the best." He slowly pulled himself away and I allowed him to slide out of my arms so he could stand up. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

And with that, he padded off. Where to? I didn't know. I was left sitting cross legged on the bed to think. Again.

He seemed better and worse at the same time. Even with his personalities returning, I felt an emptiness from him. An emptiness I had never felt before.

It was . . . it just wasn't my Mike.

And it made me kind of worried.

Would Mike ever be the same again?

And there you go. Kind of a short one, but I kind of felt an urge to get the aftermath of the last chapter out fairly quickly considering the tetiroty it went into.

And yeah, sorry if the story has been a bit on the slow side, but it should get a bit more interesting from this moment on.

Please Read and Review and check out my other stories and accounts where I am more active! If you follow me on sites like Instagram and YouTube, you'll see me making more lighthearted content anyway!

Anyway, I'll see you next time! ;)