Royally Kissed | ✓

47; the forgotten

He didn't hold back his frustration. His dad had been holding the dinner off. But she was here now and they could finally eat together like a family. "But I'm hungry, mom," he groaned, and she sighed.

"It's going to be really, really quick."

"Go on now, kid," said his father somberly, making Arthur turn to the man who'd nodded to urge him off. "You can play with your toys in your room."

Arthur huffed and he was certain he'd just given his dad a flat look. Because the only toys he had were the soccer ball, a ramshackle nutcracker, and a small car which was given to him by his father's buddy at work.

He obliged eventually.

He was swaying his feet against the foot of the bed as he stared up at the ceiling when he'd heard a faint commotion outside minutes later. Then another, followed by voices. The old apartment was relatively small, with two rooms which was originally a single that his father had divvied up into two to make a space for him. So, when someone was talking outside in normal tone, anyone inside the bedrooms could hear it.

But this one was different. This sounded like an argument.

Arthur didn't even have to go out. Only he had to open the door slightly in order to learn what was going on; it was adjacent to the small living room. He could see his parents in an unpleasant exchange he'd never seen before. In fact, he'd never seen his father this roused in fury. Her mother looked calmer, but indignant all the same.

"What is it about him that makes you want to abandon your vows you've made eighteen years ago, Edith? We go way beyond that. We were together for three years before our marriage and now–" Jude let out an abrupt breath that sounded like disbelief. "Tell me."

The skin between Arthur's forehead crinkled momentarily.

His mother's face faltered. "I am aware, Jude. But you promised me a better life. You kept saying the same things over and over again for years. There's so much better to do and yet you can't step out of what you think is comfort. I vowed to be with you, for better or for worse. But there's never been a better, Jude. I am tired."

His father stepped away, as if her words had struck him right in his core. "Is that it? Money?"

Edith chinned up at him, stifling a deep breath. "No. I love him. And he's the man you will never ever be."

Arthur blinked a tear and peered at his father. He understood it now, fragments of the situation. Although he was young, he was conscious about what was unfolding right in front of him.

"What about Arthur?"

Edith grimaced. "Yes, what about him? Have you ever thought about him? Have you ever looked at your son's eyes, Jude? Are you really content with just the way things are?"

Arthur couldn't help himself any longer. He stepped out of the door and trudged to the little living space where they were. The kitchen was just fronting the living room since it was small so he'd seen the tumbled pot on the table, pieces of fish lying in a pool of running soup.

His parents immediately looked at him. Not in surprise. They were aware that he could hear them. But the damage was beyond repair.

The place was thoroughly quiet. Reality amidst confusion rained down on them like shards of what was once considered whole. But it was Edith who'd shifted on her feet first, her tears beginning to stream down her face that effectively fled the anger out of her eyes.

"Mom?"

She shook her head, her face crumpling as she turned her eyes back and forth. And after much deliberation, she finally told them, "I'm sorry."

She turned away and Arthur rushed–"Mom!"–but Jude held him by the shoulder. They stared at her when she spun her heels back as if giving them one glance they might never see again. She didn't say anything. Just kept on sobbing. Perhaps because she knew that even if she'd ask him to go with her, Arthur's loyalty was pretty much inclined to his father.

She was right. He'd never leave his father. He didn't know her anymore.

But when she finally walked out of the door, he writhed away from his father and begged her not to leave. She pulled his arms away from her waist and he could only watch as she soon slid into the car and drove away.

That was the last and final time he'd ever seen her.

Because he never made it to her funeral to see her face one last moment before her coffin was closed.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Arthur awoke in utter confusion before the pain on his face gradually settled in.

White walls. White ceilings. White blanket. Bed. Where am I?

He blearily blinked his eyes to readjust his vision, and tried to remember how he got here. But remembering sometimes only made things worse. One bit of his memory was wiped out, his throat was parched, and he felt like he'd hit a brick wall right in the face.

"Oh, you're awake!" a grating voice said, and Arthur frowned at the nurse as she walked up to his bed. She had a wide smile that was far too bright than a sun, her teeth immaculately white in contrast to her red lips. She then touched his neck and, without warning, inserted a thermometer into his mouth which instantly made him scowl.

"What happened?" he asked painfully when she was already checking it. He wanted to get out of bed but his limbs were like lead. They were too heavy to even lift an inch.

The nurse gave him water, at last, and he seized the glass and practically gorged the damn thing. "You fainted and someone was kind enough to bring you here. Actually, they were three. But one person lingered for a bit until she suddenly walked out for no reason at all–"

"Who?"

"–anyways, your friend's going to be here in thirty or so. Here are your medicines," she placed the mentioned to the table in his periphery, "you need a considerable amount of time to rest. It's good that your fever toned down a little bit. You were close to danger zone there, you know? Although you're down to 103, it's still pretty high, Huxley..."

He managed to look aside and found a familiar piece of paper on the bedside table. Paige was here?

"Paige."

"Oh, yes! She was the person who found you, actually."

The skin between his eyebrows twitched as his eyelids felt like they were in flames, his body sinking heavily back down into the bed. She was here. And I was–

And then it was dark again.