We are not going back

Chapter forty-two

I stood in front of the small, white gravestone, feeling the weight of everything that had happened press down on my chest. The air was cool, a light breeze rustling the leaves in the trees around me, but it didn’t ease the ache in my heart. The cemetery was quiet, still. The world outside it seemed so loud, so chaotic, but here, there was nothing but the sound of my own breathing and the soft rustle of nature.

I knelt down, my fingers brushing over his name etched into the stone -my son, our son. His life had been so brief, just a few short months, but the pain of losing him felt like it had stretched on for years. I had tried to move forward, tried to bury the guilt along with him, but it still clung to me, a constant reminder of how I had failed him.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice catching in my throat. “I’m so sorry.”

I swallowed hard, closing my eyes as tears threatened to spill over. “You deserved better than what you got. You deserved a mother who was there for you, who… who didn’t let you down the way I did. I should have protected you. I should’ve been stronger. I should have known.”

The memories of that day were still so sharp, cutting into me like glass. The water. The silence. The awful, wrenching realization that he was gone, that Olivia and I had been so wrapped up in ourselves and our ambitions that we had let him slip through the cracks.

“Your mother… Olivia,” I started, my hands shaking as I wiped at my eyes. “She’s done terrible things. And I… I wasn’t much better. I let her hurt you. I let her hurt me.”

I paused, staring at the ground as my words hung in the air. It was hard to speak them aloud, harder still to admit to him, to myself, how much I had failed. “I should’ve seen it sooner. I should’ve left her, gotten us both out. But I didn’t. And you paid the price.”

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but my heart felt like it was breaking all over again. “There’s someone else in my life now. Kamala. I wish you could’ve met her. She’s… different. Strong in a way that I never knew I needed. She would’ve loved you, you know? She would’ve made sure that you were safe.”

The wind picked up slightly, and I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself. It was so hard to stand here, to say all of this, but I needed him to know, even if it was too late. I needed to say it.

“I love you,” I whispered. “I always will. I just… I hope you can forgive me. For everything.”

I stood there for a while, the silence of the graveyard enveloping me. My fingers traced his name again, wishing that things had been different, wishing that I had been different. Just when I thought I couldn’t feel any worse, I heard footsteps behind me. I knew who it was before I even turned around.

Olivia.

I stayed still for a moment, my body tense, every muscle on edge. Slowly, I stood and turned to face her. She looked the same as always -cold, composed, with that familiar steeliness in her eyes. But there was something different in the way she stood there, something hesitant. Awkward.

“Eleonora,” she said softly, her voice low, as if she didn’t want to disturb the air between us.

I nodded, swallowing the bile that rose in my throat. “Olivia.”

There was a long, uncomfortable silence between us. I could see her eyes flicker to the grave, and for a brief second, I thought I saw a flicker of pain cross her face. But then it was gone, replaced by the same hard mask she always wore.

“What are you doing here?” I finally asked, my voice colder than I intended.

She hesitated, looking down at the gravestone. “I came to see him,” she said, her voice quiet. “I haven’t… I haven’t been here in a while.”