vehement

13

I wake up.

     I sit up, furrowing my eyebrows because my alarm hasn't gone off yet. I pick my phone up, eyes widening when I see that it's ten past nine.

     "Dad!" I shout.

     No response.

     Panic swirls inside of me and I get out of bed, ignoring the pain surging through my body as I rush down the stairs.

     "Dad!"

     He pokes his head out of the living room door. "What's wrong?"

     "Have you taken Enzo yet?" I ask, rushing past him into the living room. I let out a relieved breath when I see him on the couch, wrapped up in his coat and ready to go.

     My eyes water.

     "Mama!"

     "Hi, honey." I say sadly. I sit beside him on the couch and pull him into my lap, wrapping my arms around him. "I'm gonna miss you while you're in nursery." I whisper.

     "I'll miss you too, mama." He responds. "You see me soon though."

     I smile. I lean down and kiss his cheek. "I love you."

     "I love you mama." He says, leaning on me.

"It's time to go." My dad tells us softly. "Come on, Enzo." He adds, his voice full of something similar to regret.

Enzo crawls to the end of the couch, and my dad lifts him up.

"I'll be back soon, sweetheart. Maybe go back up to bed and get some more sleep."

I don't respond. When I hear the front door open and close, I lean back on the couch and let out a sob. Tears upon tears fall down my face as I hug my knees to my chest.

"Amalia?"

I let out a small gasp as I snap my head up to the sound of Archers voice. He's standing in the doorway, concern creasing his eyebrows. He rushes over to me and sits down, wrapping his arm around me. "What's the matter, princess?"

I turn to bury my head in his chest. He sets his hand on my back, and I sob again.

     "Amalia." He whispers, my name a plea on his lips.

     "I was supposed to wake him up and make him breakfast." I say. "I slept in. I can never do anything!"

"Who, Enzo?"

I nod, sniffling. I pull back and put my head in my hands. "I can't do anything for him. It's always my dad doing it. My dad takes him to school. My dad puts him to bed."

"Because you're hurt. He doesn't want you to exert yourself."

"I feel so useless." I whisper. "I can't do anything, not even for my own son."

"Of course you can. You're injured. You need extra help for a little while but soon things will go back to how they were and you'll do it all." He tells me, rubbing his hand up and down my back in a soothing gesture. "It's okay."