A/N: If you're rereading this from before I would just like to say there will be some chapters I'm completely rewriting (mainly the ones later one) because I completely despise how they came out. So don't not read it because you already have. I'm also adding chapters because as I was reading through it I realized it's all James and you hardly know Lily's thoughts. So I wrote a bit on her side.
He wakes up to a predominantly sunny morning lying on his navy bed covers. His head is aching and his eyes shut closed before adjusting to the bright sunlight leaking through the window. He turns over slightly in order to see if she was still there, in order to see if she still waited in bed for him like before. It's not as if he expected her to be there or even craved it, but as he turned on his side and saw that her side of the bed was empty his stomach lurched and his eyes whipped shut. Waking up alone never gets any easier.
He puts on his suit quietly as he listens to the coffee pot boiling down stairs. He takes his time getting ready, doesn't leave until his image in the mirror is impeccable. Doesn't leave until he can no longer prolong going downstairs and seeing… seeing her. He knots his tie so meticulously, buttons his shirt with the utmost care, and only after there's nothing left to do, no other task to complete does he forfeit and leave the comforts of his walk-in closet. With a deep breath he walks out of the room, teeth brushed, hair sticking up in all directions.
She's sitting at the kitchen table reading the Daily Prophet. She looks up when he enters and offers him a small, casual smile before looking back down at her article. He surveys her in the morning a lot. Her face is still very pale and nothing about her glows like it used to. It's as if she is just a shadow of the former beauty she once was. A shadow of the life she once had inside of her. He surveys her now, surveys her soft red hair and her now dull green eyes. He remembers sparkles, remembers fire and passion, and he closes his eyes as he stands there because remembering her before, before when they were happy and in love, is the only way he can survive through the day. The only way he knows how to live.
"James?" a sweet voice calls. "James, are you okay?" and her manner seems caring but the tone was so impersonal that he fancies she just asked him about the weather. Her voice no longer holds that regal beauty he once craved. He sometimes thinks she's become a stranger to him. Gone is the girl who would quarrel with him in the Hogwarts hallways. Gone is the girl with the sparkle in her beautiful eyes. Gone is the girl who would look at him with a bright smile and tell him she loves him. Gone is the girl who spoke about their future and knew it would be magical.
His eyes shoot open and he looks over at her staring at him in concern. For a second he thinks about telling her the truth. About saying no, NO! Nothing has been okay since… since… he falters and sits down. There's no point in telling her the truth, in hurting them both with the words he wishes to speak and the thoughts that never leave his mind.
"I'm okay. I just got lost in my thoughts." He says smiling patronizingly as he looks at his wife of seven years. His beautiful wife lost in a world of melancholy she would never allow him to share.
"Um, are you going to eat breakfast?" she says still looking down at the paper as he goes and gets some coffee.
"Yes, yes I am."
"Can you… Do you think you could eat the dinner left over from last night? I made a meat loaf and then you worked late so we have a lot left over." She says quietly looking at him in her usual placid manner.
He feels hot suddenly remembering where he was last night and mumbles slightly, "I know. I'm sorry."
She looks up at him suddenly, "Will you be home tonight?" She asks and he wonders, wonders if she wants him there, if she misses him when he is not around, because more than anything he misses her when she isn't with him, near him. Misses her with every fiber of his being because without Lily Evans Potter he knows he has nothing else to live for, to fight for. Without her he may as well be dead and it doesn't matter if she's become a shell of a person because that need will never go away.
He smiles, not politely or cordially or anything, but a big smile. The smile of promise, of a love aching to return.
"Yes," he says, "I'll be home." He replies still staring into her eyes.
"Good. You know how I hate to waste food." And she looks down again. He starts to eat his breakfast in silence and feels rather angry, rather upset that all she cares about is spoiling food. Wasn't it only three years ago when laughter surrounded him at breakfast? Three years ago when her porcelain skin radiated with life and her eyes glistened like emeralds? He hardly takes a bite before he rises from his seat again. He never stays in her presence long anymore. It too painful, too heartbreaking.
"Well, I'm going to go. I'll see you for dinner ok?" He says quietly standing up from the table.
"Yes." She says hardly paying attention to the words coming out of his mouth so intent she seems on reading the paper in front of her. The paper whose page hasn't been turned once since he arrived at breakfast.
He walks over to where she sits and gives her the usual light kiss on the cheek. But, suddenly, he kneels down on the floor next to her chair.
"Lily?" He asks quietly. She turns to him, turns her numb green eyes to his face. Her once brilliant eyes, he thinks. And he leans up and kisses her softly on the mouth. Kisses those soft pink lips because nothing else in the world can give him more satisfaction than that, than her. Almost instantly, she pulls away and turns from him. Pulls away so fast a person could have thought she was burned, was cursed instead of kissed by the man she promised eternal love to. Her breath is slightly faster, but she calmly moves her body away from him. He feels cold suddenly, feels empty.
"You're going to be late." She says before resuming reading the newspaper.
"Bye." He says to her but she's too immersed in the paper to even hear him speak.
At work his mood doesn't brighten as he goes over file after file of known and suspected death eaters. He doesn't understand how one event, one thing, could change his life, him, so completely. Depression is like a sickness, he often thinks. It's a virus that eats away at any person who gets in its way and devours its victims without mercy. It kills with the satisfaction of draining a person's very soul out of their bodies, their very hearts.
He looks around his office as tears start to come to his eyes. He opens his draw then, takes out a picture of a very pretty girl with hair as black as his own. He closes his eyes and the tears silently fall down his face. She's a torment for him, the very being inflicting the burning pain of sorrow. She's the very pain of knowing that a future, a life could one moment be so bright and the next plunged into darkness.
He cries silent tears before putting the picture back into the draw and locking it shut. He looks around his desk, at the various pictures sitting there. There's one of him and the Marauders out by the lake at Hogwarts. They're all laughing, so young and naïve. They're all so ready to believe in the easy path to happiness that never existed. He looks at the frame next to that one. It's a picture of him and Lily taken soon after their honeymoon. She stands in front of him smiling ecstatically and his arms are wrapped around her and his hands, hers too, are place on her stomach. He wipes his eyes and angrily picks up that photograph and throws it at the wall. The frame smashes into tiny pieces.
He takes out a piece of quill and parchment to write Lily a short note, a regretful note saying he won't be able to make it to dinner. What's the point, he thinks, in trying to please her when the only way to do that is to make yourself scarce? What's the point in holding onto something that will never return?
Love, it's a feeling that's ruled his life since he was sixteen years old and first realized he loved her. It's been his gift, his curse, to control his life until the day he dies. He can't do it, can't love her like he used to because of this barrier she put between them. He can't stay true to a wife who couldn't even shed a tear if he suddenly died. And it's painful. Painful because they once had a relationship many dream of. They were once Hogwarts most promising couple. She once hated not to have him at her side, hated any second of the day when she had to live and breathe without James Potter because he was her everything. It died, though. It died so quickly, so suddenly, that sometimes he can pretend they're like they used to be. Pretend they're still the golden couple more in love that any one else in this world. But it isn't real and never will be again.
It's why he goes for girls like Melissa, the one from last night. They remind him of her. Remind him of her vivacity, of her innocence that has long since been extinguished. And it's the only way he can make love to them. Because they remind him of his lover, of Lily Evans before she reverted into herself. Before her spirit died.
It's no excuse, cheating on a lawful wedded wife because she no longer cares for him. But it doesn't matter, doesn't faze him because the person he married no longer exists and the person she promised eternal fidelity to has died as well. Being true to each other no longer means anything because there's no person, no relationship to remain true to. And deep inside, he knows that. Deep inside, she knows that, too.
Sirius comes into his office for his lunch break with take out food. They snack for an hour on Chinese chicken and won ton soup laughing about old times and the strange people Sirius comes into contact with as a publicist for the qudditch league. It's the one part of the day he looks forward to. The one part of the day where his sadness is forgotten and he can breathe easily because his heart feels light and his brain care free.
Sirius understands him. He knows about his clandestine affairs, knows about his wife that shut the world out, and realizes that numbing the pain is that only way he can help. It is the reason why he doesn't berate his friend on his adulterous life. Why he doesn't tell James about his love for Lily because she's the sister he never had. To sympathize with Lily would forsake James and James, he could never turn his back on him because James was there every step of the way, He took him in when he was a poor orphan with no value in this world. Gave him hope when it was no where to be found. So he pretends to not know about the affairs and James, in return, doesn't speak about them, never once mentions them. Instead they feign happiness, pretend that life, the world, hasn't changed since Hogwarts.
At nine o'clock he heads home. He neatly puts his files away and takes his coat from the rack putting it over his shoulders. He leaves his office with a heavy heart, leaves the only place that can give him sanctuary. He stops at the door before leaving and picks up the picture he carelessly tossed on the ground. He stares at her, stares at her smile beaming at him, stares at the young faces mocking him. He places it on his desk and walks out the door and heads home.
It's a dreary night outside and rain is slightly drizzling on him as he strolls home. He almost stops at a bar two blocks from his house. Almost drowns his sorrows in vodka and fire whiskey, but fights the temptation and goes home to where his wife is waiting.
The house is dark when he walks in save for the fire burning in the living room. He enters the house, walks into the living room and sees red hair spilling over the arm of the couch. He walks over to where she lays an hears her soft breaths, sees her arm that fell over the couch's edge. He leans down in front of her, smells the stench of rum on her breath and sees the half empty bottle on the coffee table behind him. She's been drinking again.
He breaths deeply and spots a purple photo album locked between her arms. Slowly so he doesn't wake her, he pries the velvety album from her weak hand. On the cover is written in exquisite, golden cursive Gabriella Elise Potter. He puts the book down on the table next to the bottle and picks Lily up from her spot on the couch. He carries her up the stairs and into their bedroom where he places her on the bed. He looks at her then, brushes her hair from her eyes, wipes away the tears that dried on her face. He takes her hand and kisses it by her knuckles.
"Sweet dreams, darling." He says before going down stairs.
He walks over to the couch and picks up the photo album from the table. With his hands shaking he opens the cover and the book reveals pictures of a beautiful child with midnight black hair just like his own and green eyes even brighter than those of her mother. It's the same girl he saw earlier that day. The same girl in that picture hidden deep within his desk. He turns the pages slowly, watching her grow from a baby into the beautiful three year old she became. Watching her grow into a witty child with arrogance already forming in her pretty eyes. He puts his head inside his hands and cries slightly as he remembers holding her after she was born, as he remembers playing with her in the nursery. He remembers the feeling of completion that slowly abandoned him throughout the years. He closes his eyes and tears begin to leak out stronger than before. It will never become easier. Losing a child is something that will haunt a parent into their grave.
A/N: I hope this chapter is to your liking. I know it doesn't explain much but I wanted you to see the void they live with and the pain each of them feel. Yes, Gabriella is Lily and James's daughter. And I know it's not cannon but I wanted to do something different. I hope you like the story. REVEW!