All That's Left (The Walking Dead FanFiction)

Chapter 24

Previously, in Chapter 23:

He looks at me with cold eyes. “I could never love you. You will never be her.”

My heart disintegrates. Pieces of it cut into my ribs. Everything inside me deflates. I feel like I’m walking on shards of glass. Like I’ve just been punched in the stomach. I feel a million things at once.

“I don’t want to be her,” I say. “If you could just look past the fact that I look like her maybe – “

“What are you tryin’ to do? Are you asking me to just forget about her and start havin’ feelings for you? I can’t just forget about her, Macy! She was my wife! She was everything to me. And compared to her, you’re,” he pauses. “Compared to her you’re nothing.”

None of it’s true.

 Everything he says is a lie. I know that I’m so much more to him than nothing. I know he won’t admit it because of Carrie. But I know he has to feel something. I know I’m not making it up. You don’t go searching in the woods for someone and then tell them not to leave you anymore when you feel nothing for them.

“You’re a liar,” I say through gritted teeth. “You don’t feeling nothing for me. And you’re not listening to what I’m saying. I’m not asking you to forget her. I would never ask you to do that.”

He shakes his head. “I almost died yesterday and now you’re layin’ all this feeling bullshit on me.”

“I’m in love with you and I’m not gonna let this go.”

“You’re wastin’ your time.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot that I had a ton of other valuable stuff to do with my time. Thanks for reminding me.”

He attempts not to laugh. “Just drop it, Macy. Tell me you’ll drop it.” His eyes plead with mine.

“I already told you I wasn’t going to.”

He draws a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. He doesn’t say anything. And I don’t know what else to say. I know he’s lying. I know he’ll never admit to lying. But I can’t give up. I won’t give up on him. With the way he makes me feel, I could never give up on him.

“Go get more antiseptic, will ya?” His voice pulls me from my thoughts.

Without another word, I rise to my feet and head for the bedroom. As I pass the living room, Sam dramatically rubs his stomach, making me realize I never gave him breakfast. I quickly locate my backpack in the bedroom and grab the almost empty bottle of antiseptic.

My stomach drops.

I don’t know where we’re going to find more.

Sam follows me back into the kitchen as I hand Daryl the bottle. “No, I need you to do it,” he huffs.

I stare at him.

“What?”

“You expect me to clean your wound after you break my heart? I don’t think that’s how it works,” I explain, grabbing a can of vegetables from the pantry.

“Macy, don’t start,” he warns.

“I already told you I’m not letting it go, so get used to it.” I open the can and hand it Sam.

“What the hell are you doin’? You can’t give a kid a can!” Daryl yells, making me jump out of my skin.

I quickly take the can from the two-year-old’s grasp. “Why not?”