Promise Is a Promise

Right before entering his car, his heart took a moment to stop beating, the pain subsiding for a brief moment of clarity. His mind kept thinking, mulling over the same words over and over—a promise they had made, one that she broke, but he did his best to keep. 

Shattered was his world ever since that day, yet he could find some pieces that were bigger than the others, bits of solid ground that allowed him to view the world for what it is. 

"The child... she has no husband... no father... she did nothing wrong to deserve that..." 

The battle between logic, heart, and pain was shaking his very being, the beads of sweat cold on his fore. He wiped them away in one swift motion, standing back up. Locking the car door sealed his decision to the very end. He had no clue why, but it wasn't like he could love again. No one was able to fill that gap in a decade. There was no one who could fill it, not even her. At least he would be at ease, knowing he's kept his promise. 

Walking back inside was odd. Eyes looked over to him from all sides, judging in silence, each with their own verdict. He couldn't recall when he last cared about anyone's opinion. No one knew his heart—no one but God. There was just one thing he could do: the right one. 

She met his gaze, her eyes red with unshed tears and memories that weighed her down. Regret, everything she had done was just eating away at her being. He stood face to face with her, the lifeless gaze moving to the child, who was watching him with an innocent look, staring up at the unknown man. 

"She has no father... right?" 

Her mom nodded, looking down at her before reaching out to softly caress her cheek, giving it a very light pinch that caused her to giggle. Her lips were pressed together in a soft, tired smile. 

"He left without looking back. I'm to be blamed..." 

He nodded, simply turning to look at her, his lips quivering slightly. It was fear that held him back, fear engrained in his very soul, memories of those dark days as clear as the sight before him. He opened his mouth somehow, lacking strength to talk. Her gaze met his, a spark of hope hidden beneath layers of doubt. 

"Maybe... if you want... for old time's sake, and the promise we've made..." 

Her face went pale for a second as he brought up their promise, something that she had broken a long time ago. 

"That promise? You know I broke it, so why...?" 

Her eyes widened for a moment. It was right then and there that she realized the weight of the love that man had for her, the weight of how much he cared and how much it affected him. Ten years, and he still hadn't broken his side of the promise. 

"You mean to tell me that... you've never... with a woman, even after we broke up?" 

He shook his head, the idea feeling blank to him, carrying neither taste nor joy. It felt empty, bleak, and devoid of what he needed but could never have. 

"I haven't. I promised you that, and I held on to it. I kept my end of it, so I'll try to keep it to the end. It's not like I could ever find someone else. Nothing could fix me, so the least I can do is live for someone else." 

His eyes moved over to the stroller, looking within once more. She could feel tears prickle in the corner of her eyes. Nothing but hate for herself bubbled up inside, pushing its way out through tears. She wiped them before they could fall. 

"I wanted us to have a family, so... even if she's not mine, she deserves a father. Someone to care for her, to help her grow, someone to watch over her. Sure, the mom is needed most for the emotional part, but a dad is a must-have as well. You're a single mother, so working and caring for her must be ruining you." 

She couldn't believe what he was saying. The words hinted at something that brought light to her eyes, but she didn't dare look at it, she didn't out of cowardice that she'd witness the sun only to be left alone in the night once more. He turned to face her, his ghosted eyes staring both at her and nothing at the same time. 

"I'll be her father, only if you want me to. I'll step up and take the role, for her, and... for the you that I once loved." 

That was the breaking point. Everyone around looking meant nothing. No one's opinion mattered, just his. She let it out, her back turned to the others, facing him. It had been so long since she last cried in front of him, but it felt just as natural as the first time. His arms moved on their own, opening for her, yet the gaze in his eyes didn't falter even for a second. It was nothing but death that she saw inside. The man she loved was there before her, but he wasn't the same either. It was all her fault, and she knew, but she still clung to him, letting her tears sink in his shirt. 

"Yes... I'd love to... to have you back. Forgive me, please... forgive me..." 

Her words were muffled against his chest, yet he could make them out. No chance in voice again as he spoke. 

"Why do you ask me that? I never hated you... never." 

His arms tightened around her, something his muscles had never forgotten. Not even after so many years and so much anguish. 

Silence fell around them both, the moment continuing to unfold. He didn't let the gazes of those around bother him, simply holding on to what bits of his past remained. 

"Let's just...head out, shall we?" 

She nodded against his chest, letting him know silently that she was on the same page as him. With shy gestures, she pulled back, her eyes red and puffy from crying. She grabbed the stroller and looked at him the entire time, thinking he'd just disappear before her very eyes. He walked to the door, holding it open for her before walking out behind. 

They went over to his car, and he looked over to her. 

"What did you come here with?" 

She looked softly at him, somewhat hesitant. 

"I took the bus. I can't really afford a car right now." 

He gave a quick nod before opening the back seat for her to enter, with the baby in her arms. Quickly, the stroller was folded and placed in the trunk. Before he knew it, the car was on, going on the road. 

"Where to? Your place, I take it." 

She nodded, looking down at her baby, holding her tightly. He handed her his phone to input her address into, which she did quietly. The ride was silent, filled with emotions that threatened to burst. He was lifeless, filled with pain similar to that day, while she held hope and regret at that stupid past choice. 

"What have you been up to all these years?" she asked, trying to make conversation and ease the tension. His words were just as monotonous. 

"Work and nothing more. I just try to live, that's all. Couldn't really date anyone since... nothing worked. My mind couldn't let go of the past, so I ended up an empty shell that still clings to it... you know what I mean. After all, I offered to be her father..." 

Sophia made a few cute noises in the back, toying playfully with her mother's hair. He watched through the rear-view mirror, her actions a stark reminder of what he used to do. 

"I see... I'm sorry for that," she apologized, a few tears brimming on the corner of her eyes. 

"No need to. Like I said, I never held anything against you." 

She shook her head, a soft quiver in her voice as she spoke. 

"It is my fault... I was stupid, and... I left you, and that's why you are the way you are now... you loved me so much, and I loved you too, but I was scared, and I left... and I hurt you so badly you can't even move on after a decade..." 

Tears fell on her face, which she wiped before they could touch her child. He said nothing for a while, simply clenching his teeth as his hands held on to the steering wheel. After what felt like an eternity, he spoke, his words a tad softer. 

"It's fine... I'm alive... it's fine..." 

She looked at him, crying after holding it in for so long. Her words were shaky, just like her breath. 

"You're not alive, you're breathing, but you have no life in your eyes... where's the gentle, loving boy? That's right. I killed him when I left..." 

He said nothing more, biting his lower lip, trying to not lose it. She kept crying, wiping away her own tears. It held more of a toll on her than she would have expected. She simply held on to Sophia, her baby, hugging both to protect the kid from the world and to feel a hint of warmth herself. 

"Don't cry... it's been ten years now. Time passes, people change, and so did we. It's how life goes." 

She kept weeping in the backseat, staring at her baby, holding on tightly but also with gentleness. He kept driving, jaw clenched, hoping to find a shred of tranquility in the ride itself. The GPS told him where to, guiding him along the long, bleak streets. The sun was up, but the light had long since gone out in his life. 

The engine's soft hum kept his mind connected to reality, grounded in the present moment. With her in the rear window, slipping back into the past was quite easy, for she became the proof of those long-gone days. 

"We're here," he said, getting out of the car. Without thinking, he opened the door for her, and she came out with the baby in her arms. He made sure to quickly take out the stroller and put it in place, moving like a robot set on completing a task. 

The silence was deafening as they went inside, the house was kept as clean as she could. There were traces left here and there, spots where she didn't bother to clean anymoree just sighed, starting to clean around. since they would get dirty the very next moment. Everything had taken its toll on her. He just sighed, starting to clean around. 

"What are you doing?" she asked, slightly confused. He just sighed, continuing. 

"I'm lending a hand. I offered to be her father, so here I am, doing what I should do." 

She pushed the stroller aside to its usual resting place, taking Sophia out. 

"I'll go feed her, then put her to sleep. She seems really tired," she breathed out, tired herself. He nodded once more. 

"You should go rest as well. I can see that you're not exactly rested. I'll clean up around, alright?" 

For a moment, she could faintly make out the old enthusiasm he used to speak with, the warm traces of joy, nothing but her own imagination. Gone were the days, gone was the man, and left was just a shell, as he thought of himself, who wished to fulfill an old promise. She nearly cried again, but somehow managed to hold it together. 

From the corner of his eye, he stole a few glances at her, feeling the sting reach deeper and deeper into what was left of him. Steadily, with shy steps that nearly couldn't untangle themselves from his presence, she walked upstairs, taking care of the child, then doing as told, finding a moment to rest. He kept cleaning the house, taking care of everything that fell in his field of vision. He wasn't good at it, but he had gotten used to handling himself. After all, he had lived alone for a decade. 

The sole company he had were his friends and family, who kept coming over to check up on him. His medicine didn't help at all, so they always came there with worry in their eyes until he answered and put their hearts at ease. He knew how weak he was, so he clung to God to not end his days. The thoughts were plenty, restless, eating away at what was left of him, but they never won. Every time, he'd open the door for his friends with a smile, for his family with open arms, playing it as if he were fine. 

The lie couldn't persist for too long. After all, his story with her was known to them all—the catastrophe filled with questions he never got an answer to. It was all like a lie that you find out about right after walking into it. The ice shattered beneath his feet, letting him drown in the cold water that awaited prey to steal the life of.