Leave Your Lover

Vivian's POV





"Honey, remember we're almost leaving," my mom talks in between bites from her breakfast.

"Where are you going?" I frown at her as I set the newspaper down on the table.

"Oh shit, the memory loss," my mother whispers, more to herself than to me.

It hurts to know that my memory loss can effect others too, especially the two people who care deepest for me.


"Mom?"

"Oh, right. We're going to Canada for a year for your father's work, we asked you to stay with the house,"

"Oh," I nod. How will it be like in an empty house?

"But there's a problem," she looks at me, forcing me to keep her gaze.

"We're leaving tomorrow, his work had it moved up so we can get everything settled there," she clears his throat as she stands up from the table, taking her plate in her hand. "Will you be alright?" She turns back to me after placing the plate in the sink.

"I'll be fine mom," I smile at her.

I'm finally alright with calling her 'mom' and calling my father 'dad'. I don't need to hurt them further by being uncomfortable around them. I can see that they care for me.

She washes her plate and searches the fridge for something.

Will I really be fine here all alone? What will I do? There's hundreds of questions I have for myself, but I decide to push them aside.

"Mom?" I pull her back by her shirt before she exits the kitchen. "Do I have a work?" I laugh at my own question. I really don't know a thing about myself.

She smiles at me and shakes her head. "No honey, but you were planning on studying to be a chef or something like that," she chuckles before kissing my cheek. "I'll see you later,"

I wanted to be a chef? I'm pretty sure that I don't even remember how to cook.

The front door closes, notifying me that my mother had left. That's my cue.

I put my glass in the sink and run up to my bedroom, in search of my phone.

Once I enter my bedroom, I spot my phone laying on my unmade bed. I pick my phone up and place it on my TV stand, then remove the duvet and pillows from my bed.





I look at my bed after it's made and shake my head. I need new sheets. I don't like the whole brown and white effect my room has.

Maybe I did change a little since the accident. Well, about these kind of things. This morning, I almost felt sick at the sight of some of the clothes I own.

I reach for my phone and go through my contacts, in search for Louis' number. Once I find it, I hit call.






"Good morning pretty lady," I hear the voice I miss so much.

"Hi,"

"What's up?" He asks after clearing his throat.

"Please come with me to buy new bed sheets and paint for my room?" I plead.

"When do you want to go?"

"Like, now," I shrug, even though he can't see it.

He chuckles.

"What's so funny?" I curiously ask.

"I'm actually out side of your house right now, so hurry up,"

Notes

"Die with memories, not dreams."


I've edited my chapters, nothing changed, I just changed the notes.
I have a quote on every note, like the one above.
If you're already a subscriber to my story, have a look at them, If my readers seem to like the quotes, I'll continue doing them.




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