You felt large, heavy tears run down your face as you gazed numbly at the clock sitting on the bedside table.
It was 2:00 AM.
This was the seventh time this week Michael had stayed out past midnight.
One whole week.
His excuses were always the same.
'I'm busy at the studio' he'd say.
Of course, you knew that he wasn't lying when he said that. He had to work at the studio ten hours a day for his album, but you also knew that right after he went clubbing with his mates.
Usually you wouldn't have a problem with it, but this was the seventh consecutive night that he pulled this, and you were getting sick of it. Whenever you tried to confront him about it he'd either be too drunk to understand half the things you were saying or he'd brush you off and belittle you when he was sober. You missed him, the old him, so, so much, but you were starting to doubt that he longed for you too. You flew out to LA with him so you could spend more time together before he went on tour, but the both of you had hardly had a conversation the whole week.
So, you told yourself that today, if he wasn't home by midnight, you would leave him. Go rent a room in a hotel until you could book a flight or something of the like.
It was 2:15 AM.
You had waited the extra two hours. Hoping, in vain, that tonight would be different. By now, you could tell that it wasn't.
You were sick of him, but you still loved him all the same, and you hated yourself for it. Hated yourself for the fact that you couldn't bring yourself to let go. For you longed for the sweet words and warm embraces the both of you had shared before he decided that it was more important to spend the minuscule amount of time the both of you had together partying, instead of with you.
You knew that the relationship you held together had grown toxic, even if it was one tiny drop of resentment and mistreatment, it had spread through every aspect of your relationship like food coloring in water.
Letting out an exhausted, broken sigh, you got to your feet, rubbing your eyes.
It was 2:27 AM.
You walked to the other side of the room and grabbed your suitcase. You mindlessly stuffed your various belongings in it, stopping as your fingers felt a painfully recognizable fabric. You shut your eyes as you grabbed a hold of the piece of clothing, holding it up against your chest. A few heart-broken tears slithered down your face as you brought it upward, burying your face in the soft cloth. You inhaled deeply, a familiar, comforting scent washing over you.
It was 2:35 AM.
You let out a crushed sob as you chucked the flannel across the room. Resuming your packing, more violently than before, you heard the sound of a car engine faintly outside of the house.
Eyes widening, you zipped your suitcase shut and grabbed your purse, passport, and phone. Shoving said items into your purse, you grabbed the suitcase and rushed downstairs. Hoping with everything that you had that you could slip out the back door before he entered the house.
You had just barely started down the hall where your front door was before it opened, causing you to stop dead in your tracks.
It was 2:44 AM.
"(Y/N)?" a soft, light voice called.
It was Michael.
You bit your lip to hold back your tears as you turned your head ever so slightly to look at him. What you saw ripped your heart in two.
He was sober. His eyes were opened wide in innocent questioning, his lips turned downward in a confused frown. You watched as realization dawned on his face, his previously confused expression turning to one of hurt.
"Where are you going?" he asked, his voice shaky.
"Home," you answered thickly.
"But you are home," he spoke, taking a few steps toward you.
He outstretched his arm as if to grab hold of your cheek, but hesitated before dropping it to his side.
You shook your head, tears threatening to spill down your face, "This isn't home anymore Michael."
"Why not?" he questioned, his lip quivering ever so slightly.
"You aren't here anymore. It's empty, and lonely, and there's no more love in these walls," you explained.
"I'm here now," he offered, his beautiful green irises pleading with your own.
You scoffed, glaring harshly at him, "For how long huh? You're only here for six hours and that's only to sleep! The rest of the time you're either working or clubbing!"
He flinched at your words, speechless because he knew you were right.
You stared defiantly at him for a few more moments before whipping around and starting for the front door. You tried to walk past him but to no avail, him wrapping his hand around your wrist and pulling you back in front of him, placing his hands on your shoulders firmly.
"Please don't leave me. I'm a mess without you," he pleaded.
You struggled to hold up your steely facade, feeling it dissipate the longer his broken voice echoed in your ears, "Well, you're a mess with me either way."
You tried to shake his hands off your shoulders but his grip only tightened.
"Please don't do this... please."
You felt your facade break as you let a few tears slip down your cheeks, grief for the long relationship you were about to leave behind filling your very being.
"Give me a reason. Give me one good to stay and I'll stay," you croaked, practically begging for him to think of something.
"I love you," he whispered without hesitation, but his voice lilted upward toward the end, almost as if he was asking a question instead of stating a fact.
You closed your eyes as his words echoed in your mind, mixing with the neglect and hurt he had put you through over the past week, and you began to wonder the truth behind his words. If someone truly loved someone else, they wouldn't put that person through so much pain. He had ignored you, took you for granted, brushed you off, belittled you, and lied to you. Your eyes flashed open as you knew what you had to do, but that still didn't stop the tears from flowing.
"I love you too," you whispered back.
You watched as relief fanned over his face, a small smile curving his lips ever so slightly, which only made what you were about to do even harder.
"But I have to leave Michael. I can't do this anymore. What you put me through was so... so terrible, and I'm not sure I can forgive you for it. You hurt me," you explained, your whole body wracking with sobs.
"I'm sorry baby, please don't do this," he begged, tears rushing down his face.
You leaned forward and planted one last, lingering kiss on his tear-drenched cheek, your lips burning with the sensation. Pulling away, you looked into the eyes you loved so much, them marred with grief and sadness.
"I'm sorry Michael... I'm so, so sorry," you whispered.
With that said, you turned away and pushed the door open, almost tripping over your own feet you were sobbing so hard. The last thing you heard was his loud, pain-filled sobs echoing around the bare hallway, shaking your soul.
It was 3:02 AM.
