Hearts On The Highrise

Chapter 69 : reunion of hearts

As I gently stroked Engfa's hand with my thumb, "Chayann Waraha... It's a beautiful name." I whispered softly. Engfa's eyes filled with tears as she nodded in agreement.

I reached out and picked up the photo of Chayann that rested on the tombstone. It was a small, delicate picture capturing a moment frozen in time. I studied it for a moment, taking in the innocence and purity reflected in the baby's eyes.

Engfa's gaze followed mine as I held the photo. Looking at the photo, her expression softened, a mixture of sadness and tenderness crossing her features.

She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts before continuing, "His birth was complicated from the start. We thought everything would be okay, but Chayann had health issues from the beginning."

Her voice trembled as she recalled the painful memories, "One morning, he just... didn't wake up," she said, her voice breaking with emotion. "We rushed him to the hospital, but it was too late. He was gone."

As I sat there, amidst the quiet of the cemetery, my mind reeled with the weight of her revelation. I never expected such a heartbreaking story to unfold before me. Engfa and Pichy had shared the profound bond of parenthood, a bond that had been shattered by the cruel hands of fate.

Gently, I took Engfa's hand in mine once more, intertwining our fingers tightly. "I'm so sorry, Engfa," I murmured, "No one should ever have to endure such a heartbreaking loss."

As the quiet settled between us, Engfa turned to me, "How did you know I was here?" she asked softly.

I hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. "Pichy... she told me," I replied.

Engfa's gaze returned to the tombstone, "I come here when things get too much for me," she confessed, "It helps me clear my head, even if it's only for a little while."

With a gentle touch, I traced circles on the back of Engfa's hand, seeking comfort in the simple act of connection. "Engfa," I began softly, my voice breaking the peaceful silence between us. "Why didn't you tell me about Pichy? About... everything that's been happening?"

As Engfa turned fully towards me, her hand intertwining with mine, she absentmindedly played with my fingers, her gaze fixed on our hands. I could feel the weight of her sorrow and regret radiating from her touch, and my heart ached for her pain.

"Charlotte," she began, her voice soft and tremulous. "That night when you were in Thailand, when you left... I was supposed to fly back to New York to find you. I regretted letting you go, but then..." she paused, her voice catching in her throat as she relived the memory.

"But then Pichy collapsed," she continued, her words heavy with sorrow. "At the hospital, I found out about her ALS diagnosis. At first, I didn't even know what it was. But then... then I learned that Pichy was dying."

Engfa's grip on my hand tightened, "She never told me," she whispered, "I felt like I had to stay by her side, Charlotte. Despite everything, she was still Chayann's mother, and she meant so much to me."

Tears welled up in my own eyes as I listened to Engfa's confession, feeling the weight of her words sink in. "I had no idea... I'm so sorry." I whispered,

"I never meant to hurt you like this," she confessed, "I'm sorry for pushing you away, for shutting you out."

I gently lifted her chin, urging her to meet my gaze. "Engfa," I murmured, my voice filled with tenderness. "You should have told me. You didn't have to face all of this alone. I'm here for you."

Engfa's breath hitched as she listened to my words, "It wasn't easy for me," she confessed softly, "I've always been used to handling things on my own, never needing anyone's help. I thought I was strong, that I could do it all by myself."