Novel Square
92
The news hit me like a tidal wave, and the world around me crumbled at the mention that Cher didn’t make it. In an instant, my emotions erupted, and tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. In that moment of heart-wrenching grief, Ace and Alex were there by my side, pulling me into a tight embrace that offered a small semblance of solace amidst the overwhelming pain.
“She didn’t deserve this!” I cried out, my voice carrying the weight of my sorrow until my lungs burned. The anguish felt unbearable, as if a part of me had been ripped away. And then, as if the weight of my emotions had consumed me entirely, I began to see black dots dancing in my vision. My consciousness slipped away, and everything turned dark.
When I finally regained awareness, I found myself lying in a bed, surrounded by the comforting aroma of hot tea. The fragrant steam wafted into my nostrils, offering a gentle reminder that I was back in the world of the living. Alex’s voice reached my ears, a soothing presence in the midst of my disoriented state. “You need to rest for a few days,” he advised, concern lacing his words.
As he entered the room, he carried a tray with what seemed to be lunch. The plate held a delicate arrangement of comfort food: a warm bowl of soup, a crusty roll, and a colorful assortment of fresh fruits.
“How are you holding up so well?” I inquired, my voice heavy with grogginess as I struggled to make sense of the situation. Looking at Alex, it was hard to fathom how composed he seemed despite the immense loss he had experienced. “I’m trying, but it has been a hard few hours,” he admitted with a sigh. His eyes held a mix of sadness and resilience, a reflection of the complex emotions that grief brings forth.
As he settled down next to me, I found myself drawn to him, seeking comfort in his presence. I wrapped my arms around him from behind, holding on as if he were an anchor in the storm of emotions that threatened to consume me. “At least Amalia made it. She’s safe,” I whispered, clinging to the silver lining in the midst of the darkness.
“Is that what she told you she would name the baby?” Alex asked gently, his gaze searching mine. I nodded in response, feeling a bittersweet ache in my chest. “Amalia Lily.”
After finishing my lunch, I felt the need to cleanse both physically and emotionally, so I headed for the shower. Meanwhile, Alex had gone to visit Amalia, who was still confined to the hospital for a few more days. As the water cascaded over me, I couldn’t shake the overwhelming sense of disbelief that lingered in my thoughts. The fact that Amalia would grow up without her parents was a heavy reality to bear. While we would love and care for her as our own, there was no denying that her life’s trajectory had been forever altered.
The warm water offered a momentary respite, but as I dried off and got dressed in a white dress, the weight of the situation pressed upon me once again. As I descended the stairs, the somber atmosphere was palpable. Ace was engrossed in the painful task of arranging the funeral, a responsibility that no one should ever have to shoulder. His voice carried a hint of sadness as he spoke on the phone. “White roses,” he instructed, his voice firm. “I want white roses and sunflowers.” Sunflowers held a special place in Cher’s heart, and choosing them felt like a small way to honor her memory.
As Ace set the phone down, his eyes met mine, and I could see the anguish that rested behind his gaze. With a heavy heart, I approached him and wrapped my arms around him in an embrace. There was no need for words in that moment; our shared grief spoke volumes. “She’s in a better place, right?” he questioned, his voice carrying a hint of desperation as he nuzzled into the crook of my neck.Content is © by NôvelDrama.Org.
I closed my eyes tightly, willing the tears to stay at bay as I held Ace tightly. “She’s in a better place,” I whispered.
In the midst of the preparations for the funeral, I found myself shoulder to shoulder with Ace, assisting him in arranging various aspects of the ceremony. As we worked together, there was an unspoken understanding that our shared efforts were not only a tribute to Cher and her husband but also a way for us to cope with our own grief.
“I never thought I would have to bury my sister and brother-in-law,” Ace’s voice was heavy with emotion, a weight that echoed the depth of his pain. There was no response I could offer that would ease that burden, so I remained by his side, a silent presence to lean on.
The gravity of the situation was immense. The loss of two beloved individuals in such a tragic manner was a pain that defied words. It was a reality that no one should ever have to face, and my heart ached for Ace and Alex and for the life that Cher and her husband would never get to live.
“We have a new addition to the family,” I spoke up, my voice a gentle reminder that even in the midst of sorrow, life continued to move forward. Amalia’s survival was a bittersweet reminder that amidst the darkness, there was a glimmer of light. “We need baby stuff,” I continued, bringing up a practical concern amidst the emotional turmoil.
Ace nodded in agreement, his expression somber yet determined. “We will just move all the stuff from Cher’s house and make a room for her here,” he decided, his voice carrying a sense of purpose.
“She will grow up without parents,” I murmured, my heart heavy with the weight of that reality. The thought of Amalia navigating life without her parents was a heart-wrenching truth that was difficult to accept. It was a fate that no child should have to endure.
“But she will know how amazing they were and that they love her so much,” Ace’s words were a gentle reassurance, a reminder that while Amalia would not have the opportunity to physically know her parents, their love and legacy would live on through the stories we would tell her. It was a promise we silently made to keep their memory alive, to ensure that Amalia knew the love that had brought her into the world.