Dear God(Rewritten)
Chapter Nine
Trajedy's POV
I was laying on the bathroom floor, crying, when Matt came in and pulled me into his arms, crying himself.
We sat in the bathroom floor crying the rest of the night.
I felt so bad for springing it on him. And I prayed to God he did want that baby.
I found it oddly funny how small I was in his arms. Not funny enough to stop crying- it just made me love him that much more.
He never let me go, and his head was always resting on mine. Neither of us spoke, just cried. I wondered why his emotion-keeping walls had suddenly shattered. I knew he wasn't ready and he knew I wasn't.
Neither of us knew what to do and we were going on tour in three months. I sobbed harder, thinking I'd ruined his career-reaching hysterics. Matt never let go of me, holding me as tight as he could without causing me pain.
****************************
I woke up a month later, hurting so bad I could hardly breathe. I rolled over onto Matt and screamed in pain and the sight of the blood. I knew what had happened.
No baby. No tiny body inside me. I was tortued.
"Oh, Trajedy." Matt held me while I cried. I felt a few sobs break from him and I knew he had wanted a baby. I felt dead. I felt like I never wanted to try to have a baby again.
***
We went to the doctor a week later, who confirmed my misscarraige. I sighed as we walked out, Matt not letting go of my hand.
"Do you want to put the wedding off?" Matt asked when we got to the car, his face as torn as it was the week before.
"NO! Of course not. It was... for the better," I choked.
He looked at me with pleadig eyes. "Are you sure?"
"Yes." I smiled reassuringly.
I took his hand and squeezed it lovingly. Matt had barely talked since the day I had misscarraiged.
"I can let it go. I'll be okay. I promise."I kissed his warm hand.
"Can you? I mean... really? I thought you'd never stop crying after that day."
"Yes. But can you? That expression hasn't left your face since a week ago." I regretted the words instantly. He look frustrated at himself, but the dominate expression was still pain.
"Pull over," I said.
"Why?" he half-whispered.
"Do it." My voice was cold. He flinched but pulled over. I went over and got in his lap, staring deep into his tortured eyes.
I kissed him hard, trying my hardest to get a response out of him. He put his hands on my face, kissing me with just as much force. Our lips parted at the same time and I massaged his tongue with mine. He tangled his fingers in my hair.
He pulled away and stared at me, the first time I'd seen no pain on his face in a week. His breathing was heavy, and he smiled that genuine smile I loved so much. I sighed in relief and smiled back. He brought my face back to his and kissed me the same way.
I finally realized he wanted me to be happy. And he always made sure I was.
I was laying on the bathroom floor, crying, when Matt came in and pulled me into his arms, crying himself.
We sat in the bathroom floor crying the rest of the night.
I felt so bad for springing it on him. And I prayed to God he did want that baby.
I found it oddly funny how small I was in his arms. Not funny enough to stop crying- it just made me love him that much more.
He never let me go, and his head was always resting on mine. Neither of us spoke, just cried. I wondered why his emotion-keeping walls had suddenly shattered. I knew he wasn't ready and he knew I wasn't.
Neither of us knew what to do and we were going on tour in three months. I sobbed harder, thinking I'd ruined his career-reaching hysterics. Matt never let go of me, holding me as tight as he could without causing me pain.
****************************
I woke up a month later, hurting so bad I could hardly breathe. I rolled over onto Matt and screamed in pain and the sight of the blood. I knew what had happened.
No baby. No tiny body inside me. I was tortued.
"Oh, Trajedy." Matt held me while I cried. I felt a few sobs break from him and I knew he had wanted a baby. I felt dead. I felt like I never wanted to try to have a baby again.
***
We went to the doctor a week later, who confirmed my misscarraige. I sighed as we walked out, Matt not letting go of my hand.
"Do you want to put the wedding off?" Matt asked when we got to the car, his face as torn as it was the week before.
"NO! Of course not. It was... for the better," I choked.
He looked at me with pleadig eyes. "Are you sure?"
"Yes." I smiled reassuringly.
I took his hand and squeezed it lovingly. Matt had barely talked since the day I had misscarraiged.
"I can let it go. I'll be okay. I promise."I kissed his warm hand.
"Can you? I mean... really? I thought you'd never stop crying after that day."
"Yes. But can you? That expression hasn't left your face since a week ago." I regretted the words instantly. He look frustrated at himself, but the dominate expression was still pain.
"Pull over," I said.
"Why?" he half-whispered.
"Do it." My voice was cold. He flinched but pulled over. I went over and got in his lap, staring deep into his tortured eyes.
I kissed him hard, trying my hardest to get a response out of him. He put his hands on my face, kissing me with just as much force. Our lips parted at the same time and I massaged his tongue with mine. He tangled his fingers in my hair.
He pulled away and stared at me, the first time I'd seen no pain on his face in a week. His breathing was heavy, and he smiled that genuine smile I loved so much. I sighed in relief and smiled back. He brought my face back to his and kissed me the same way.
I finally realized he wanted me to be happy. And he always made sure I was.