80s Band Imagines

💙Izzy #19- Scary

Angst

🎸

"Momma, when Daddy come home?"
My son, Jett, asked looking up at me with big doe eyes.

"Soon, baby. Go back to sleep. You can see him tomorrow."
I said, rubbing his back and pulling him tighter against me.

"How come Daddy no come home?"
He asked.

"Daddy's just working."
I sighed.

"He work lot."
He said quietly.

"I know, baby."
I said, kissing his forehead.

"Miss him."
He whimpered.

"I know, Sweetheart. Work is really important to Daddy, so sometimes he really focuses on that."
I explained softly.

"More 'portant 'an me?"
He asked, looking up at me with teary eyes.

"No, no, baby. Nothing is more important than you."
I reassured.

"Then why never home?"
He cried.

"Shh, Jett, baby, don't cry. Daddy loves you very much."
I said, bringing him closer to me, and letting him cry into my shoulder.

I rocked him and soothed him the best I could, but he didn't want me, he wanted Izzy. And Izzy wasn't here. He was working, like always. And by working I mean at the studio until 10, then going to the bar until 1 or 2, then coming home. Izzy hardly ever saw our son. At this point, he might as well not come home at all.
It broke my heart because Jett adored him. And Izzy wouldn't even bat an eyelash at him.

"C'mon, baby, let's get you to bed. It's past your bedtime."
I whispered, getting up and heading to his bedroom.

I tucked him in and turned on his nightlight before shutting the door and going back downstairs to the living room. I turned on the TV without paying much mind to what was on, my mind kept wandering back to Izzy. I wondered where things went so wrong. Was it me? Maybe he wasn't ready to be a dad and I trapped him. Was it the band? Was it something he wasn't willing to give up?
A thousand thoughts raced through my mind, but they all stopped as soon as the door slammed shut.

"The fuck are you still awake for?"
Izzy slurred, kicking off his boots and shrugging off his leather.

"Well, aren't you just a ray of sunshine."
I rolled my eyes.

"Your smart mouth didn't answer my question."
He bit back.

"Waiting for father of the month to come home."
I said sarcastically.

"Don't start your shit tonight. I can't handle it."
Izzy groaned.

"You can't seem to handle anything."
I snarked.

"What's that supposed to mean?"
Izzy gritted, taking a step closer to the couch.

"It means that I'm tired, Izzy."
I started, tears already falling from my eyes.

"Oh, great, now you're fuckin' crying."
Izzy groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah, Izzy, I am. Y'know why?"
I snapped, standing up to face him.

"No, but you're gonna tell me away so get fuckin' on with it."
Izzy said irritably.

"No, y'know what. I'm going to bed. We'll talk when you're sober."
I sighed, turning to head toward our bedroom. 

"No, June, we're gonna do this now."
Izzy said, harshly grabbing my arm.

"Izzy, let go."
I gritted, his grip becoming uncomfortable.