Taking a deep breath, I decided to address it. "Saint, let's... let's get a divorce." His dark eyes clouded over, his voice cold. "You don't want to marry me that much?" I couldn't believe it. Did he want to marry me? His gaze was intense, and after a long pause, he finally said, "Fine. I'll draw up a divorce agreement, but we'll stay married for one year. After that, we can part ways."
Chapter 1 You should have died
**Peter's POV:**
I trotted slowly; it would be a miserable day. I was seething, but the weather was encouraging enough. It was a chilling morning; there had been a heavy downpour earlier, and the cold winter wind brought with it clouds so somber and rain so penetrating.
I knew all eyes were on me; everyone in the school already knew, I was quite popular.
The same question was on everybody's mind: Why was I in school today? I couldn't answer that either. I lost my mom yesterday. Every normal human being would have stayed at home today or at least been anywhere else but here. I wasn't normal then.
I walked slowly towards the class; I was a bit late, but I guess I could be pardoned for that.
My eyes were red, from a sleepless night, not tears. I hadn't been able to squeeze out a single tear. I was far too relieved to cry. She had been in the hospital for the past two weeks, feeling excruciating pain. I could see the pain in her eyes; she also wanted it to end. The pain was too much for her to bear.
She had become very lean and pale in the past few days. It was messing up my visual memories of her. I couldn't see past her pale face in my head, in contrast to her radiant and chubby healthy self. The cancer had eaten every bit of her and left her as an empty shell. It was such a depressing sight that would haunt me forever. I really loved her but didn't get the chance to bond with her. I was so busy living out school on a high. All I ever thought about was getting girls and winning the next football matches. I was a crucial member of the school football team, perhaps the best. My school's football team was one of the best in the district. Football matches meant a chance to win and get more love from girls from both our school and whichever school we were up against. I was mostly the star of the show, and I did savor those moments. It was always a thrill.
I tried to bond with her in the last few days. I skipped football practices and went directly to the hospital from school. I made little conversation and humored her. She found it difficult to talk, and it grew worse daily until she couldn't anymore. I watched her fade away on the hospital bed. It was such a horrible feeling to watch someone you love waste away while you could do nothing but stare.
A couple of my friends from the football team and my best friend, Ralph, visited often in the hospital. They always tried to cheer me up. Their gesture seemed sincere, but I would rather have them not visiting. There was an underlying feeling they came to see me at my most vulnerable state, to see if I had cracked under pressure. I always carried an air of supremacy around whenever I walked. They came to see if I still had that pride. Their visitation seemed sincere and was out of concern, but the feeling was still there.
The most depressing part was Dad not being with her in the hospital till she died. Dad always traveled for business; he was rarely around. I couldn't blame him for that; I was also busy maintaining a classic life. Him being a successful businessman was why I had so much access to money and maintained a classic Alpha male lifestyle.
He flew in from outside the country when he heard she had died. He cried bitterly while I watched in anger. I know he really loved her, and the feeling was obviously mutual. I thought it was enough reason to be at her bedside at her final moments.
She would have sought solace with both of us beside her to make up for the years of neglect which she never complained about. She was always quite content with seeing me happy from winning a match for the team or getting a girl I had been eyeing for so long, and my Dad from making a successful business trip. Neither of us noticed she was falling ill, which she kept to herself. I did notice she seemed weak and tired, but I assumed it was stress from taking care of the house. I didn't realize she was very sick until it was too late. She said the doctor told her her condition was very critical. She didn't want to bother or worry either of us and kept it to herself.
I know she didn't bother to tell us because neither of us ever showed any concern. I felt distraught at every thought of it. I knew why I didn't stay back at home; I was scared my guilt would eat me up in my silence. My monsters would use my idleness against me. I would hide among people where they couldn't haunt me.
I walked into the classroom; a teacher was already in class. It was the Biology Teacher, Mr. Whitehead; he seemed like a good man and a gentle soul, perhaps one of the class's favorite teachers. He seemed so loved for a number of reasons I was oblivious to, but I rarely paid attention in his class. I was a backbencher; I was either chatting with my friends or surfing through the media on my phone.
I felt many pairs of eyes set on me. I greeted Mr. White, who also stared as I walked to my usual seat.
He called me back.
"I heard what happened today, Mr. Ben. I'm so sorry about the death of your Mother. May her soul rest in peace," he said.
"Thank you, sir," I replied.
I saw his mouth opening again, but he shut it immediately. I knew he wanted to ask me the obvious question. Why was I in school today? He refrained from it. He knew it was none of his business, and I respected and appreciated him for that.
I walked back to my seat.
"Hey man, I'm so sorry about your loss."
"Thank you."
"I and the rest of the football team planned to pay you a visit at home today. We didn't know you would come to school."
"I appreciate your concern."
"I'm so sorry, man. May her soul rest in peace."
"Amen." I sighed. I knew I was going to hear a lot of those words today.
I was right. I was treated like an egg about to crack. I received condolences from literally everyone, both familiar and unfamiliar faces. Each was the same statement. I was starting to get frustrated and irritated with hearing the words over and over again.
I was not comfortable with being pitied by everyone. I knew I should have stayed home to fight my demons; it was better than the endless stream of condolences. I isolated myself on a chair at a secluded part of the school and sat down alone. I wanted to avoid snapping at anyone; it would be unfair. They all had a lot of empathy for me, which was appreciated but not needed.
What I needed was to be treated like everybody else, certainly not like someone about to break anytime. It would keep me reminded of what I was so desperate to forget and get over. I was lost in my thoughts. I heard the sound of footsteps and a twig break behind me. I snapped back to see who it was. I was livid; can't I have a moment to myself?
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