❥𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤||𝑀𝐽 𝐼𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠•𝑉𝑜𝑙𝑢𝑚𝑒𝑇ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒/𝒞ℴ𝓂𝓅𝓁ℯ𝓉ℯ𝒹/❥

♡A Life Left Behind♡

•SET IN THE HISTORY ERA•

☆☆☆

You stared at your husband as he studied his reflection in the mirror. The hotel room was cold, making you rub your upper arms gently. A smile was on your face as you watched your husband of four years, Michael Jackson, get ready in front of the mirror.

Your eyes were red, and they were tired. Michael was currently on his HIStory world tour, and you had been travelling with your husband from day one. Initially, he had not wanted you to accompany him as he did not want you exposed to the same sort of stress he faced. He wanted to keep you away from the aggressive fans, and away from all danger - but you had made up your mind to be by his side, and nothing could have changed that.

At present moment, Michael was getting prepared for his performance. His curls were slightly wet, and he had a chain on. A moment passed, and he noticed that you were staring. He turned around and set his hands on his lips as you laughed shyly.

"Someone is staring at me," he raised an eyebrow. You glanced out of the large window, noting that the skies were growing dark. Evening had fallen, and in less than an hour - your husband was going to be up on stage, once more. You always made it a point to attend his concerts, being there to support the man you loved.

You could not lie, sometimes Michael was so busy that he hardly ever noticed you were there. You felt quite alone sometimes, isolated. The fans were always trying to catch a glimpse of you and your husband wherever the two of you went.

It was because of this, that you had been diagnosed with severe depression. Living life had become more difficult, and you did not know how to feel. Michael did his best to be patient with you, but sometimes - it did get quite exhausting. He just wanted to see you happy.

Not to mention, you had refused therapy.

"Because you look good," you smiled a little. You were seated at the edge of the bed, and you were already dressed.

"I do not," he chuckled. "You do," he studied you.

You laughed and shook your head before he spoke again.

"Shall we make our way down to the stadium?" he referred to the area that he would be performing at.

You fiddled with your fingers, staring down at your thighs. Michael seemed to notice this, so he moved to sit down next to you.

"(Y/N)," he called your name. "What's wrong?"

You paused for a moment, debating with yourself as to whether or not you should have told him. He kept his eyes on you, making you feel safe.

"I'm just...depressed right now," you shook your head. "And I don't know how to get rid of the feeling," you stared at him.

"You're....depressed," he frowned a little. "So you won't be standing backstage, this evening?"

"I won't," you blinked rapidly. "I can't,"

"God," Michael stood up, running his fingers through his curls and shaking his head.

"What's wrong?" you frowned as well.

"It's just that...the depression just hits you when I need you the most," he remarked. "But who cares?" he laughed a little, but not a full laugh.

"Michael, I do care," you breathed. "But I'm of no use when I'm extremely depressed,"

"And that's every day of the damn year," he shook his head. "How much longer are you going to carry on like this?" he looked at you. "How much longer are you going to keep on behaving like a recluse?" he seemed annoyed. "(Y/N), all you ever are, is depressed,"

"Michael, you need to try to understand my emotions," you swallowed.

"I am trying," he bit his lip. "But I'm getting exhausted. I'm slowly losing my sanity around you," he lowered his tone. "And you won't even get help," he walked toward the bedroom door, making you stand up.

"Michael, can we talk about this? Please?" you begged.

He stood there, studying you before letting out a small scoff.

"After the performance," he said, opening the door and stepping out before slamming shut.

You could not believe that your husband had lost his temper. However, despite the fact that your feelings were hurt, you knew that you had to seek help. It had dawned on you that you weren't getting anywhere, and that therapy could work. But of course, there was no guarantee.

It was time to make some serious changes.

•⊱♡⊰•

An hour had passed, and Michael was still performing. The hotel room was quiet, except for the sounds of you bustling about. You were packing your belongings, and you were prepared to leave. Deciding that Michael was better off without you, you had made up your mind that you were going to seek help. You were going to leave Michael, and let him be free.

There are so many things that he can do better, when I'm not around.

Once you had finished zipping your bag closed, you decided to walk to the bedside table - opening the drawer, and fishing out a pen and a notepad. You clicked the pen before scribbling onto the soft paper.

Michael, you'd be better off without me. I realized that I need help, so that's what I'm going to get. I wish you all the best of luck and love. I'm sorry to leave like this, but as said before - you are better off without me.

-(Y/N)

You took off your wedding rings, and placed them on top of the notepad. You placed the pen back into the drawer, and closed it. Tears had formed in your eyes, but you knew that it was time to go. You needed time for yourself so that you could achieve inner peace.

Grabbing your large suitcase, and your hand bag, you made your way toward the door. After opening the door, you took one last look at the room before walking out.

×××♡×××
I know that this chapter sucked!
But
Thank you so much for reading!
Lemme know your thoughts!❤
Lots of love!
Isha♡
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|Love|Hope|Truth|