NEAH’S POV
Three weeks had passed, yet every single day, Dave still came to my parents’ house to win me back. Ever since we buried our child, I had never returned to the home we once shared. I wanted to heal. Somehow, the thought of stepping back into that house terrified me because all I would remember were the days when I was still pregnant… when our baby was still with me.
I looked at Dave and the flowers and food he carried in his hands, as though any of those things could undo what had happened to us. To our family. To our child. To our marriage. A bitter smile tugged at my lips when I noticed the white roses he brought again. Every time I saw them, I was reminded of the night I lost my baby. The day I buried our child alone.
Quietly, I stood up and walked out of the living room.
“Neah,” he called after me, but I didn’t look back.
I went straight to my mother’s garden and sat on the old swing.
Even now, everything still felt painfully fresh in my mind. Losing my child still hurt so much. I still blamed myself for not being able to protect our baby.
Until now, it still felt as though my heart was being ripped apart over and over again.
“I know it won’t be easy for you to forgive me,” Dave said softly from behind me.
I ignored him. I heard a faint rustling sound, as though he had placed the things he brought onto the small garden table nearby.
“I don’t even know if I still have the right to ask for your forgiveness every day,” he continued, his voice lower now. “But I also can’t stop myself from trying.” I bit my lip hard to stop my voice from trembling.
“Neah…” He stepped a little closer, though he still didn’t sit beside me on the swing. It was almost as if he knew that if he did, I would run away from him again. “I’m not asking you to forgive me immediately.”
I remained silent. Then I heard it. A quiet sob. My throat tightened instantly, and it felt like something pierced straight through my chest.
Ever since our child died, this was the first time I had heard Dave cry.
“Please, let’s fix this,” he begged tearfully. “Come back to me. I’ll make it up to you. I know I can’t bring our child back, but please… come home. The house feels so empty since you left. I love you so much, and I can’t lose you too. I’m begging you… let’s fix this.”
My hands trembled as I wiped my tears away. I was still angry at him. But I hated myself for the fact that despite everything he had done to me… despite what happened to our child…
I still loved him. I still wanted to be with him. The truth was, over the past three weeks, I had missed him terribly. I missed his hugs. His kisses. His voice. Everything about him.
Slowly, he dropped to his knees in front of me, crying with his head bowed low. I could clearly see his shoulders shaking from the force of his sobs.
“Please come back to me,” he pleaded again. “Let’s fix this. I’ll make it up to you.”
I let out a deep breath because deep down, I already knew I was beginning to give in again. My love and pity for him were overpowering my anger once more. Just imagining him alone in our house hurt me too.
Slowly, I stood from the swing and knelt slightly in front of him, placing my hands gently on both of his shoulders. I helped him stand and met his tear-filled eyes. Carefully, I wiped the tears from his cheeks.
“I can’t live without you, love. Please come back to me.” I gave him a small smile.
All the determination I had built over the past three weeks not to return to him suddenly crumbled apart. I still couldn’t fully forgive him. But there was still a part of my heart that wanted to go back. A part of me that still wanted to save us. I wrapped my arms around him, and that was when he completely broke down. His tears poured endlessly now, as though he had been holding them back for far too long. He buried his face against my shoulder, crying softly.
“I’m really sorry,” he whispered brokenly. “I’m sorry if I failed you, love. I’m sorry I wasn’t there during the moments you needed me the most. Believe me, I tried to make it in time… but I never could.”
I simply listened.
Slowly, I rubbed his back, trying to comfort him.
“Losing our child hurts me too,” he continued through tears. “I didn’t want to cry in front of you because I didn’t want you to lose even more strength. If you were already falling apart and I became weak too… where would you get your strength from? I’m sorry, love…”
He continued crying softly, and I let him. Because it felt like he had been carrying an unbearable weight inside him all this time.
A few minutes later, we were both sitting quietly on the swing, staring blankly into the distance. I couldn’t stop wondering whether fixing our relationship was still worth it. Dave had become too consumed with chasing his dream of becoming the CEO of the company he worked for. He wasn’t like this before. Back then, he always put me first. He never missed important occasions.
I had supported him and his dreams wholeheartedly, never realizing those same dreams would slowly destroy our marriage. Late nights. Endless meetings. Business trips. Projects after projects.
I would fall asleep waiting for him at night, only for him to come home when the sun was already rising.
“Let’s go home, love,” he said softly. “I promise I’ll make it up to you. We’ve just been overwhelmed with projects these past few months, that’s why I couldn’t come home on time. Please… let me make it up to you now.”
I stayed quiet. I didn’t know if I should still believe him. What if he hurt me again? What if I started hoping again, only to be disappointed again? What if this was only temporary? What if work consumed him all over again?
Would I end up waiting for him forever?
“If I give you another chance…” I asked softly, “can you really promise me you’ll make it up to me?”
From the corner of my eye, I saw him looking at me.
“I promise,” he answered immediately. “Let’s start over.”
A faint smile appeared on my lips as I slowly nodded. No matter how deep my anger toward him was.
I still loved him. I still wanted to stand beside him. And I still wanted us to survive everything together. I took a deep breath before finally turning to him with a small smile. He immediately pulled me into his arms. I rested my head against his chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart. I just hoped… That this time, he would truly change.
That the man I used to know would come back to me.
And that somehow.
We could still begin again.