Disclaimer - All recognisable characters belong to their original owners. I do not make a profit from writing this; I simply do it for my own amusement. No copyright infringement intended.
PROMPT: Texts from Last Night. Continuation of nEXt
Sipping at my morning coffee, I watched as Caleb and Henry ate their breakfast like they hadn't eaten in weeks. "Slow down boys!" I chided. "No one's taking it away from you." Honestly. They'd always had voracious appetites - something I could attribute to their father but this was beyond ridiculous.
"We're hungry, mommy!" Caleb said, a bit of pancake hanging out of his mouth.
I shook my head. No one could deny that they were Emmett's children. Both were his spitting image.
"Well, eat slowly otherwise you'll get a tummy ache." My words went unheeded as the boys continued to stuff their breakfasts into their faces.
"Is Dad coming to my game on Wednesday?" Henry asked, sparing me a quick glance.
"Of course," I told him. Emmett and I never missed a game. It didn't matter that we were divorced, we were co-parents and we supported our boys in whatever they did. It didn't matter that it fucking killed me seeing all the other mom's fawn over him. The boys were the most important thing to us.
"Good," Henry said, going right back to devouring his breakfast.
Before I could ask them if they had worms, the doorbell rang.
I put my coffee down and went to answer it, wondering who was here on a Sunday morning. It was a little past nine and we weren't expecting anyone.
When I opened the door - much to my surprise - I saw Emmett standing on the other side, an urgent expression on his face. His eyes were wide, mouth pulled into a frown slightly and hair looking quite dishevelled. There were bags under his eyes and I watched as he ran a hand over his face.
"Emmett, what's wrong?" I'd picked the boys up from his house yesterday and I knew if there was something amiss with them, he would have told me there and then. I briefly wondered if it was his parents - I knew his dad had been having some heart problems - but before I could overthink anything else, he spoke.
"Nothing's wrong. But I do need to talk to you."
I hated that phrase "need to talk to you". Nothing good ever followed it. Ever.
"Of course, come in," I replied, stepping to the side to let him into the home we had once shared. I tried to ignore the way that his body slightly brushed up against me and the way that my entire being seemed to tingle in his presence. Fuck. Even after all this time, I wasn't immune to his natural charm.
"Dad!" Henry shouted, clumsily jumping from his seat and rushing into the living room where Emmett's pulled him in for a hug as Caleb joined them, pancake smeared across his face.
"What are you doing here?" Caleb asked, hair adorably sticking up in all directions. What? It was Sunday. We didn't get washed or dressed until at least after 10 on a Sunday. Even I was still in my pyjamas.
Shit. I'd forgotten about that. I was wearing my dark navy pyjamas with sheep on them. My hair was in a messy plait and I hadn't even washed my face this morning. Although, Emmett was looking a little worse for wear himself. His clothes looked rumpled and he looked as if he'd barely gotten any sleep.
"I need to have a grown-up chat with mommy," Emmett told them, voice pleasant as he glanced over at me.
Fuck. Someone had definitely died.
"You boys go finish up breakfast whilst daddy and I have a talk," I told them, watching as Emmett placed kisses on both of their heads before watching them rush back into the dining room.
"Come on," I told him. "We'll get some privacy in the guest bedroom."
Solemnly, Emmett nodded and followed me - even though he knew the way perfectly well.
Once we were inside, I shut the door and turned to face Emmett who shrugged his black jacket off, rubbing a hand over his face again.
Just as I was about to ask Emmett what was going on, he turned to me, eyes more awake than they had been before. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Tell you what?" My brain anxiously scrambled to try and work out what it was that I hadn't told him.
"Tell me about the way you felt, Rose. Jesus! If you'd had just spoken to me, none of this would have happened!"
"What?" I was so confused. My own eyes were wide, brain working overtime as I went through all the boy's appointments and events. We had a shared calendar and I was fucking diligent at making sure that everything was put on there - so much so that I'd once included my smear test appointment. That was fun.
"I mean, here I am thinking that we're over and you send me that text…" Emmett paused, shaking his head. "Why the hell did you never tell me, Rose? I thought this was what you wanted - a divorce. And it turns out you never did!"
"Woah!" I shouted, holding my hands up to get Emmett's attention. He was starting to rant and to be honest, I had no fucking clue what he was going on about. "Back up, Em. What text? I don't know what you're talking about."
Shoving his hand into his pocket, Emmett pulled out his phone, his fingers swiping across the screen before he shoved it in my face.
I took it from him, a frown on my face. I hadn't texted him. The last text I had sent was just before I picked the boys up. It had read: Leaving now. Be there in 20 minutes. Nothing out of the ordinary… oh fuck.
No.
Fuck.
No.
Shit.
Oh, God.
There it was. That fucking text. The text I had written yesterday when dinner was cooking. The text that confessed all my feelings for Emmett. The text that detailed how I thought I had made a mistake in agreeing to a divorce. About how I never wanted one in the first place. About how sorry I was. It went into chapter and verse about everything I would change. It told Emmett how I still loved him. How I would always love him and how foolish I felt.
"I never sent this," I breathed, my eyes staying firmly rooted to the screen. I hadn't sent this. I had written it as a form of therapy. I was trying to move on. To get over him. Closure. It was never meant for him to see. "I never…" I trailed off. Because I hadn't sent it, but somehow it had ended up on Emmett's phone.
And then I swore because I knew. And I couldn't believe how fucking stupid I had been. Henry had asked to play with my phone. Can you guess what I said? I said, yes… and I hadn't deleted the fucking text! He must have sent it.
"I still got it, Rose," Emmett said.
Slowly, I raised my eyes to meet his wondering how the hell I was going to get out of this mess. Never was he meant to see this. These were my raw feelings written down - a way for me to cope without having to bare my soul to him. Emmett had suggested the divorce and I had agreed… because who suggests a divorce without actually wanting one? I didn't want Emmett to be stuck with me.
"Did you mean it?" he asked, stepping closer, eyes imploring me to tell the truth.
I swallowed hard, my heart beating an unhealthy rhythm against my rib cage. I had a choice to make. I could lie and say it wasn't me. I could say that I don't know who wrote that message but I'm glad we got divorced. That it was the best thing that could've happened for everyone. I could say it was the making of me. The boys and I were living our best lives.
Or I could be honest. I could tell Emmett that the decision haunts me every day. Every single morning when I wake up, I'm reminded that he's not next to me. Every single hour of every single day I experience regret that I didn't fight harder. That I miss him more than I thought possible and I fucking hate that this is where we are.
"Emmett, I–"
Slight spin on things but I hope you like it.
