In A Day Or Two

Chapter 10: The Sunset

Just like she wanted, I sat on the shore, letting the waves brush my toes as the sun began its slow descent. The sky blazed with the soft, golden hues of sunset, the same colors we had watched together so many times. I hadn't opened the letter yet. Not until I was ready. But the months of waiting, of carrying her absence in my chest, had brought me to a point where something inside me—some quiet, persistent force—pushed me forward.

"Am I really ready?" I whispered to the wind. "Should I open it now?"

A gentle breeze swept across my face, ruffling my hair and cooling my flushed cheeks. It felt like an answer. I took a deep, steadying breath, breaking the seal and slowly pulling the letter from the envelope, careful not to tear the delicate paper. A photo fell out, drifting onto my lap.

It was her. Taken some days after our fight, she was smiling, but the fragility was still there—her condition obvious. A small bump in her stomach, evidence of the life she carried... my daughter. And yet, even in her weakness, she was beautiful. More beautiful than I had ever seen her.

I unfolded the letter and began to read, my hands trembling:

Francis Brooks,

Today, I'm almost certain I won't last for a week anymore. No matter how hard I fight, the pain is getting worse, and I can't take it. I'm growing weaker with every passing hour.

The day you left me... I'll admit, I wished you would turn around and beg me to stay. But I can't blame you, because that's what I told you to do.

Honestly, I didn't mean it. The moment I said I wouldn't come back was the moment I lied to myself. No matter what I do, I know—and you know—that I will always come back to you. Even if we fight, even if I push you away, I won't stop loving you until my very last day.

By the time you read this, I'll be gone. But always know I will be here with you on this beach, in these waves, watching the same sunsets, waiting for you to visit, just like the old days.

When the time comes that your heart wants to love again, don't stop yourself. Love her like you loved me.

You'll always have me in your heart, Francis, just as I have you in mine. Please don't blame yourself. You made a choice, but there's nothing wrong with it. You didn't make it hard for me to leave—you helped me.

Even though I never wanted to leave you, I had no choice. But I might be gone in body, not in spirit. Soon enough, we'll be standing on the same ground again, and I promise, when I do, I'll never leave you like this again.

Promise me you won't stop living. Love again, even if it's someone new. I won't be mad; I'll be happy for both of you. Find someone who can run with you on the beach, someone who can share everything with you, someone who can be there for long years, longer than I could.

I'm sorry for everything, Francis. For making you feel this way, for the mourning, for the heartbreak so early. Thank you for loving me. And for giving me a sweet little daughter who is already watching over us from above.

I'm so sorry I couldn't tell you I was pregnant. I took away your chance to be her father. Forgive me.

In a day or two, I hope you can wake up feeling a little lighter. Don't let my death stop you from living the life you love. Fight, Francis. Live, for both of us. She'll be guarding us up there. Just don't forget to look up.

Don't worry about me—I'll be fine in California. I'm already in therapy, trying to heal. And when I can, I hope we'll continue the love we left hanging.

I love you.

Always yours,
Xianon Pearson

As the sun sank lower, painting the horizon in bruised shades of orange and purple, I curled into a small ball in the sand. My body shook with sobs, raw and uncontrolled, letting the world know the depths of my pain. I didn't care who saw me—if anyone passed by, they needed to understand that I am human, that I bleed just like anyone else.

Her death tore me apart from the inside out. Every part of me felt hollow, shattered. I blamed myself endlessly, wondering if I could have done something—anything—to keep her by my side. My mind conjured every detail I had loved about her: the delicate curl of her fingers around mine, the way her laughter bubbled up like wind chimes, the soft warmth of her small hand holding mine. I remembered the imagined moments I had pictured with our daughter—laughing together, tickling her chubby cheeks, kissing every little corner of her face.

And I hadn't even been there for her. If I had stayed that day, if I had stood my ground, maybe things would have been different. Maybe the story wouldn't have ended like this.

Memories assaulted me, flashing like knives in my chest, each one a painful reminder of what I had lost. Every laugh, every quiet moment, every whispered secret we shared replayed in vivid clarity. I felt as though I had been stabbed a thousand times. The thought of being left behind—the thought of continuing without her—hurt more than the idea of her leaving me in the first place. She had become a part of me, inseparable in ways I didn't even know I could feel in such a short time.

The world I had built with her, so carefully and lovingly, crumbled like a tower of Lego bricks in my hands. Her death shattered it effortlessly. And yet, deep down, a part of me clung to hope. Xia wouldn't let me remain in this state forever. I could feel her spirit, her determination, whispering to me across the distance, urging me to survive, to live until the right moment when we could be together again.

"Why did you have to leave me here alone?" I whispered into the wind, my voice breaking, lost among the gentle crash of waves. "I can't stay strong without you, Xia."

I gripped the sand in my fists, letting it slip through my fingers and scatter into the air, as if casting my pain into the world. "Why do you have to be so unfair?" I cried, the salty tears mixing with the grains beneath me. My body shook, my chest heaving with grief, but even in my despair, I felt a quiet, stubborn spark deep inside—the tiny, unyielding ember of hope that she had left behind for me, waiting for the moment I would find the strength to rise again.

~~~~~~

Wait? What?!!!

Xianon and Francis had a daughter?

And it wasn't Xianon on that grave!!!

But the question is... Will Francis wait for her or will Francis do what the letter says and find somebody else?

Will Xianon comeback?

WE'RE ALREADY AT THE END OF THE STORY EVERYONE...

AND PLEASE IF YOU LIKE IT, PLEASE PLEASE VOTE!

AND VOICE OUT YOUR CONCERNS TO THE STORY.

THIS IS MY FIRST STORY AND I THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT, I LOVE YOU ALL!!! *kisses and hugs*