❥𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤 || 𝑀𝐽 𝐼𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠 • 𝑉𝑜𝑙𝑢𝑚𝑒 𝐹𝑜𝑢𝑟❥•

•❊Ultimatum|Part Two❊•

NOTE BEFORE YOU READ:
APOLOGIES FOR ALL ERRORS.

•⊱♡⊰•

Your jaw fell open as you stared at your husband. He watched you as the tears formed in your eyes. Your heart was racing, pounding in your chest. A cold sensation had taken over your limbs, rendering you frozen. Your eyes glistened in the light, emphasizing the fact that you were about to cry.

Michael's expression was soft, yet firm. He folded his arms and let out a sigh as he shook his head. You took in a deep breath and focused on him.

"You....can't take the kids away," you mumbled. "I am their mother," you blinked, letting the warm tears stream down your face. Your soul was caught up in a combination of sleeplessness and hurt.

"(Y/N)," he said your name. "You need to think about the kids," he walked up to you. "They're so young. The last thing I want for them is to watch their own mother die,"

"Michael...I...can't..." you trailed off. "I can't go for therapy...I just..can't," you searched his eyes. "I don't want to go through the disappointment all over again. Do you know much it hurts to hear that nothing can be done to help you?" you sniffed. "That's what every therapist, that I have been to, says," you gulped.

"Maybe you haven't found the right therapist yet," his eyes studied the features on your face. At this point, your legs were weak, and your hands were trembling. "You need to give it another try. I'll get in touch with Frank, and ask him which doctor he can recommend," he referred to his manager. "Layla was suffering from depression, about two years ago," he referred to Frank's wife.

You shook your head and gently ran your hands over your dress. "I'm not doing it, Michael,"

You were quite stubborn, and once you had made up your mind about something - it was almost impossible to get you to change your mind.

Michael let his hands fall to his sides as he kept his eyes on your face. His eyes were sad, making him look empty. He stared at you for a full minute before he exhaled. "You're not going to budge, are you?" he looked away, allowing you to notice that his eyes were wet. He wanted to cry too.

"Then I'm taking the kids," he walked past you. "I'll pick them up, this afternoon, and I'm taking them to Janet," he spoke of his sister.

"Michael!" you turned around, making him stop. His back was facing you, and his form seemed tense. Turning to face you, he frowned a little.

"What's so hard about going to therapy?" he posed the question. "Don't you want to get better? Don't you want to be a mother to your children?"

Saying nothing, you stood there - tears streaming down your face. You felt too weak to respond, and far too tired to argue. However, that did not mean that you had accepted Michael's decision.

"They're my children, Michael," your chest moved as you let out a breath. "Please don't take them away from me," your eyes held a strong sense of desperation.

"Are you willing to get help?" he raised an eyebrow slightly.

Once again, you said nothing and just stared at him. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants.

"I thought so," he turned around and began to ascend the staircase, leaving you on your own.

•❊•

The day had gone by rather slowly. Most of your time had been spent in the bedroom that you shared with Michael, and you had been laying on the mattress - staring up at the ceiling as you cried silently. You may not have had your senses about you, but you certainly did love your children. You didn't want them to leave.

Michael had spent his day in the study room, and you hadn't seen him since the discussion that you'd had, earlier. He had not come to check on you, and that had made you even more sad. Countless thoughts invaded your mind, and you had so many questions that you did not know the answer to. But despite all the thoughts, there was only one question that bothered you to the highest degree.

Does Michael still love me?

Glancing at the small clock that rested atop the bedside table, your eyes widened slightly. It was three in the afternoon, and the school day was over for your kids. You knew that Michael was going to pick them up.

Getting up from the bed, you quickly slipped on your pair of ballet flats before hastily fastening your hair into a bun. Rushing for the door, you opened it and looked along the corridor. You spotted Michael descending the staircase.

With a racing heart, you ran - following your husband down the large set of stairs. He was moving quickly, making his way toward the front doors, which were already open. You saw him glance at his wrist watch before you let out a sigh.

Michael had become aware that you were behind him, making him spin around to look at you. The car was already parked outside, and you could see your children's bags - already packed.

"Please," you whispered. "Don't...do this," you shook your head.

"I'll be staying at Janet's, for the next few days. I don't know when I'll return, but you have everything that you need here," his eyes had become cold.

He made an attempt to walk away, but you rushed forward and grabbed his hand. He looked at you once more, pulling his hand away - making your heart sink further than it, initially, had.

"Take care, (Y/N). I hope you find yourself in time," he cleared his throat. "I hope you won't realize anything when it's too late,"

With that, he turned around and moved out. Tears began to stream down your face as you leaned against the door frame, helplessly watching your husband as he proceeded to get into the car.

Falling to your knees, you began to sob. You were tired, hurt, depressed, and confused. You didn't know how to get yourself in order.

For the first time, in ages, you were truly alone.

~❊♡❊~
I know this part was lame, my apologies!
But
Thank you so much for reading!
Lemme know your thoughts!❤
Lots of love!
Isha♡
~❊♡❊~
|Love|Hope|Truth|