Between Us

Chapter 50 : Rain Between Us

It's been almost six months since Engfa left, but for me, it still feels like it happened just yesterday. Time moves, but the weight of her absence clings to me, refusing to loosen its grip. Slowly, I've started to accept that she's really gone. I went to Ventura, chasing after something—anything. I spent days wandering that town, sitting in that café, hoping to catch a glimpse of her or hear someone say they knew her. But I found nothing. No one knew her.

After that, I gave up. Nudee had been right all along. I had to let her rest in peace, no matter how impossible it seemed. Accepting that has been harder than anything I've ever done. There are still days where the weight of it crushes me, when I wake up expecting to feel her next to me, and then I remember.

I miss her so much. It's an ache that never fades. I dream about her often—sometimes they're happy dreams, where she's just there, laughing, being herself. But other nights, I wake up in tears, reaching for someone who isn't there. I don't know if I'll ever be able to love like that again. How do you? When the person you loved most is gone?

This morning, I went for a run, trying to clear my mind. It's the only time I feel like I can breathe, like the memories aren't suffocating me. I look down at my watch as I walk back into my apartment, surprised by how far I've run today. It's good, though—it helps me escape, even if just for a while.

I drop my things by the door, grab a towel, and drink some water. My eyes wander, landing on the painting hanging in the living room. I walk over to it, standing in front of it like I've done a thousand times since the day the painter gave it to me. It's still unsettling, the resemblance to Engfa. Every time I look at it, I feel that pang in my chest, the one that reminds me how much I miss her.

As I stand there, lost in thought, the sudden sound of the doorbell jolts me. It startles me enough that my heart races a little. I shake off the nerves and walk to the door, opening it with a soft smile when I see Thanya standing there, Mia bouncing excitedly by her side.

Before I can say a word, Mia leaps into my arms, hugging me tight. I laugh, holding her close. "You're getting bigger every time I see you!" She giggles, her arms wrapped around my neck, and for a moment, the ache in my heart eases.

Thanya smiles warmly and holds up a couple of bags. "I brought food," she says, stepping inside.

"You didn't have to bring all this," I tell her, closing the door behind them.

Thanya's already moving into the kitchen, setting the bags down and pulling out plates. "Of course I did. I need to make sure you're eating properly," she says, giving me a gentle but knowing look.

I smile and shake my head. Thanya and Mia visit often, and when I'm able, I visit them too. It's like having a little piece of Engfa still with me, a part of her that stays, even though she's gone. In a way, they've become my family now. It's comforting, knowing that I don't have to face everything alone.

When Thanya first learned about Engfa's death, she didn't cry right away. She was quiet, almost in shock, like her mind couldn't process it. But then, later that night, when we were alone, she broke down in my arms. I'll never forget that moment, how strong she tried to be for everyone else, and how she let it all out with me.

As for Mia, she kept asking where Engfa was. We told her Engfa had gone on a long journey, and that she was up in the sky now, watching over her. It was the only way we could explain it to her. She still talks about Engfa like she's just on a trip and will be back one day.

I help Thanya set the table, and once everything's ready, I look at her and say softly, "Thank you for everything. Really."

Thanya pauses, then steps closer, placing a hand on my arm. "You don't need to thank me, Charlotte," she says gently. "You're like a daughter to me now."