“How are you?” Jiya asked. “How’s work going?”
“It’s quite busy,” I replied, helping myself to a cookie. “I think I’ve taken too much on my plate. I need to cut down on the part-time offers.”I told her about Liam making me the official photographer for the company. “Sometimes he drags me into my old office to get opinions on new projects,” I said with a grin. “He’s quite cheeky that way.”I explained the current project we were working on—a two-tower development in the heart of the city, one tower being a hotel and the other a residential building.“The architecture is modern with a touch of historical elegance,” I said while gently bouncing Emma in my arms.
I could not wait to photograph the construction at different stages and capture the final result when it was completed in about a year and a half.
Jiya nodded as she listened, making eye contact and asking questions.
Every time she looked at me like that, I felt my pulse quicken slightly.
It reminded me of Eva.She used to listen to me the same way when I talked about work.
God, I missed having someone to share these things with.
After a while, I handed Emma to Geeta.
I paced around the room for a moment before finally sitting down across from Jiya. I crossed and uncrossed my arms nervously.
“The visits to the therapist’s office have decreased,” I said. “She’s happy with my progress.”I scratched my arm absentmindedly before continuing.“There’s something I’ve been meaning to do for a long time, but I’ve kept pushing it away.”My fingers twisted the wedding band on my finger.“I want to visitmy wife’s and daughter’s graves,” I said quietly. My voice broke slightly. “Will you go with me?”
Jiya reached across the table and held my hand.
“I’ll be right there beside you.”
The weather wasgloomy as I drove toward the cemetery, thick grey clouds hanging low in the sky as if they were pressing down on the world.
Before heading there, I stopped by a flower shop and bought two bouquets—daisies, Eva’s favourite flowers, and roses, which had been Chloe’s favourite. Holding them in my hands felt painfully symbolic, as if I were carrying fragile pieces of the life I had once known and lost in a single devastating moment.
I returned to the car and handed the bouquets to Jiya for safekeeping before starting the engine again. My fingers clasped the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles turned white.
Calm down. Everything will be fine.
The words repeated in my mind, but my body refused to listen. My chest felt tight, and a restless unease coiled deep inside me, growing stronger with every mile that brought us closer to the place I had avoided for far too long.
When we reached the cemetery, I parked the car and sat there for a moment, staring straight ahead and gathering what little courage I had left before finally stepping out. I held the flowers in one hand, the stems cool and slightly damp against my palm, and ran my free hand through my hair as we made our way toward the graves.
With every step, my breathing grew faster, and I could feel my chin beginning to quiver. A cold sensation spread slowly through my body, followed by a sharp ache in my chest thatmade it difficult to draw a full breath. The closer we got, the heavier everything felt.
God, I would kill for a drink right now.
The thought came suddenly and fiercely, tempting and familiar. But those days were over. I had promised myself they were over, even though this was harder than I had imagined.
Desperate for anything to keep me from breaking apart, I glanced around the cemetery, searching for something—anything—that might distract me from the storm raging inside my chest.
Then I felt Jiya’s hand slip into mine.
I turned and looked at her, and she met my gaze without hesitation, gently stroking my hand with her thumb. Her touch was reassuring, as if she understood exactly what I was feeling without a single word needing to be spoken. That simple gesture sent a soothing calm through me, spreading slowly through my body. My heart continued to race, but the panic that had been clawing at my chest began to loosen its grip.
Her presence gave me the strength to keep walking.
Together, we reached the graves.
The sight of the marble tombstone with Eva’s and Chloe’s names carved into it brought a painful lump to my throat. The letters felt too permanent, too final—a cruel reminder that this loss was not a nightmare I could wake up from, but a reality I had been forced to live with every single day.
I knew I needed to do this. I had stayed away for too long, hiding from the pain and pretending that distance would somehow make it easier to bear.
The last time I had stood in this place was the day I buried them.
I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, fighting to keep that memory from crashing into me with full force. The sound of shovels hitting dirt, the unbearable silence that followed,and the hollow emptiness carved inside me afterward were memories I had tried desperately to bury along with them.
