And somehow, my breathing felt a little lighter.
CHAPTER 30
Elena
“I’ll take Haille for a walk along the beach,” My father said, adjusting Haille against his chest.
He looked at me for a brief moment, then offered a small, knowing smile. “Talk to your mother for as long as you need.”
I nodded.
I lingered on the porch, watching as my father set Haille back on her feet. Her small hand immediately curled around his finger, her steps quick and eager, her voice bubbling nonstop about sand, waves, and shells she was certain she would find. My father listened as if nothing else in the world mattered, laughing softly, matching her pace.
Then Mom came to stand beside me. She reached for my hand, her grip warm and familiar. I turned toward her.
Her fingers moved slowly, deliberately, the way they always did when she didn’t want to rush me.“Do you want to talk?”
The question wasn’t an expectation. It was an invitation.
It was only natural they were beginning to wonder. I had been here for nearly two weeks, and I hadn’t once spoken Adrian’s name. Even Adrian himself felt distant in a way that was hard to define. Instead of calling me directly, he contacted my father—asking about Haille, about me—as if circling around something neither of us knew how to touch.
I inhaled deeply.
“I don’t know what to talk about,” I admitted.
Mom studied my face, then lifted her hands.“A human heart is vast,”she signed.“But it was never meant to carry every burden alone.”
Her hand rested briefly over her chest.“That’s why we share, so it doesn’t grow heavy and suffocating.”
Something inside me tightened. My eyes burned.
She guided me toward the living room, her movements unhurried, patient, as if reminding me that silence was allowed here.
Her hands moved again.“I know you’re struggling,”she signed gently.“If you’re not ready to tell the whole story, that’s okay.”
She paused, her gaze steady.“But I know one thing. I don’t see you happy.”
I lowered my eyes, my fingers twisting together. “I don’t know where to begin,” I whispered.
Mom’s lips curved into a soft smile.“Whenever you’re ready,”she signed,“your father and I will always be here.”
Something inside me finally gave way.
“I don’t know how to forget,” I said, my voice shaking. “Or how to forgive. It hurts so much. Adrian hurt me... and I don’t know how to stand back up from that.”
My breath hitched, and I pressed my lips together, trying to steady myself. “I’m staying,” I said, tears beginning to fall. “But I don’t know if this is the right decision.”
Mom grew still for a moment before her hands moved again.“Does Adrian regret it?”she signed.“Is he still the same... or has he changed?”
I shook my head—then nodded, confused even by my own response.
“He’s changed,” I said quietly. “He’s trying so hard. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t see it.”
I swallowed. “But it hurts, because it feels like he’s the only one moving forward... while I’m still standing in the same place.”
Mom’s gaze held mine, calm yet searching. Her hands lifted again.“And now, what do you feel?”The question landed gently, but the answer wasn’t simple.
My voice broke. “I still love him. I still want him in my life.” I took a shaky breath. “But I’m tired... of living under the shadow of those memories.”
