TwoA Chapter by Ink
Grace got up her bed and started her morning. A cup of coffee, a touch of chocolate and a sprinkle of bitterness. She stopped at a wall with a framed paint by numbers Van Gogh. 'Hmm, where is that picture?' she tried to remember where she put William's and her wedding picture " Oh! I left it at storage last winter" and by last winter she meant 20 years ago. "Well William isn't it funny we argued too much we didn't ask each other if we liked that picture or not, not for the last time"She look around and smiled when she realize she can finally sell this house and get a small apartment without thinking of consequences or regrets. It's what Amelia or Misha would have done. Ring! Her phone showed the name Misha. "Oh sweetheart mom was just thinking about you" Grace proceeded to finish her breakfast while her son talked to her "Hi mom! I said I would yesterday but I had to close some scenes I can't leave this team alone, so you wanted me to call?" Misha sounds like William, even looks like him too but unlike his father Misha would be better when he find someone. She heard him and Amelia talking about settling down and he, Misha, had ideals like Gabriel so Grace knew that Misha is a lot better than his father. "oh yeah, I was just uhm, I wondered whether you wanted to do charity rounds with mom" Grace did make her rounds after she had met James that day. When William died he left a huge sum, because she hated him she created a donating platform instead. At least his money did a lot of good. "I see well this week I can't I had to work on new production sets and..." Grace continued eating while listening to his voice. oh how much she adored him, whenever William was out with his other woman, Misha would take his place. Goofy outfit runways, dance-dance revo, ice cream dinner and more. Misha always choose her. Why did she called him? Even she tried to think why him? After she left James with a hug she fast dialed Misha. 'I can't tell him yet I shouldn't'
Misha, in few words, knew his mother needed him for something she cannot yet admit and it breaks her heart how history is repeating. Only this time the monster is within her. " I can't leave them, my children, not yet" She said looking at that Van Gogh paint by numbers. She has to be strong, she has to stretch what she was given,and unlike her own mother,she won't leave her children unprepared. © 2018 Ink |
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Added on May 14, 2018 Last Updated on May 15, 2018 |