Struggle To Let Go

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❤️You are the boss of that dough❤️

A/N: Everything is back in place. Don't be confused. Carry on.

"Stop running!"

"I'm not running!" He screamed from the stairs above, thundering up the stairs. "I mean, I'm not running very fast!"

"If you fall, I'm going to be mad, Damien." Sam called out.

The sound of his footsteps slowed and Sam smiled, chuckling to himself. They had spent the whole day at Ashley's and after a few bats of his long eyelashes, she caved and gave him an entire can of soda. The high he was on was wearing off but not quickly enough.

It was seven in the evening when they finally got home and it was almost dark out.

"I'm sorry, daddy." Damien said, looking down at him from the wrong set of stairs. He had no idea where he was going, so he ran right past the door.

Sam went for him and lifted him up. "It's fine, I just don't want you to hurt yourself. I told you what I'll do, right?"

"Cry louder than me." His once worried face relaxed into one with an amused smile.

"Exactly."

The door was already unlocked when he reached for it so he knew that Zelah was home.

What scared him was the position that she was in on the couch. Curled up under a blanket, with her face practically into the shirt that he wore the day before. She looked dead to the world.

"Who's that?" Damien's voice jarred him back to the present. His ever running brain was beginning to form scenarios of what could be wrong.

"Zelah. She's a good friend of mine." They went past her but his heart remained in the living room.

"Your friend? Like Mommy's friend, Richard?"

They entered the bathroom Damien's bag on Sam's back. He sat down and stood him up in front of him, a little curious about his question. "I'm not sure. Tell me about this Richard person."

"He buys mommy what she wants, he's in the army and sometimes he stays over. He's nice. I like him." His voice got muffled in his shirt while it was getting pulled over his head.

"I see. Well, not exactly like that but yes." Sam helped him into the tub and soaped him up with a towel. "Lift your arms for me?"

"Is she nice? You have soap on your arm."

"She's nice to me. You're going to have to find out. Don't worry about it." He rinsed him off quickly with the shower head and wrapped him up in a bigger towel, lifting him out.

"Okay. Daddy?"

"Yes Damien." He wiped him off and helped him into his pajamas, only listening partly. His worry had hit another level and all he wanted to do was hold her.

"I'll tell Mamie you're doing a great job." He smiled at Sam and wrapped his arms around his neck. After the brief hug, he scampered out, leaving Sam an emotional wreck.

He sighed and glanced at the tub, lost in his thoughts. He needed to be there for everyone around him. Most of them used to be grown-ups, now there was a four year old.

I haven't spoken to Mich in weeks.

He saw her every week at work, but they never called or texted each other to find out what was happening. In his befuddled mind, he saw how sad she was and didn't acknowledge it.

He took his phone from his pocket and his fingers hovered over the screen, no idea what to say. He wasn't there for her when she needed him.

The closest people to him suffered because of her. Of course, it wasn't Zelah's fault but somehow it was. He wasn't searching for love and it fell right into his lap.

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