𝘿𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝘿𝙪𝙤 ; 𝙏𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙨 𝙎𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙗𝙮 [ BOOK 2 ]

TEN

CHAPTER TEN; OBSOLETE

Caroline had always loved the flowers and the birds, loved the sunlight and the clouds that drift by. She had always loved the way the leaves move in a breeze and that soft whispering sound they make, like nature loves to chatter too. Yet the tiredness that begun a while ago remains like a veil over her skin, grey and cold.

And as she watched the petals and the twigs that sway outside the window, there was only a creeping sorrow where there should be joy. It sat like January rain on her skin, enough to chill what was once warm inside. At any other time she would have called a friend, asked for the warmth she needed to ward it off, just a little was enough.

No longer. Now she just let it come, drop by drop and she felt like it was an ocean falling upon her instead of rain - that the grief of years she carefully suspended has all condensed right above her head into a cloud large enough to block the sun. They say it can't rain forever, that there will come a time when it must cease, that the last drop will have fallen. Thing is, she just don't care. She will still be true to herself, still help others, but she planed to just stay there in the cold, comfortably numb.

She looked at Thomas like the fire in her eyes has been dowsed with ice water - if anything it makes the brown more dark. He wasn't used to it, it unnerved him. He wanted her to give freely like she always did but she didn't.

It was like she just crawled right back inside some invisible shell and no matter how hard he tried, she was unreachable. She moved her eyes more slowly, like they were heavy, an effort to move. He want to crack his usual dry jokes but he knew she wouldn't.

Thomas stood right next to her but he may as well be on the moon, for the warmth in her body had ceased, radiating a coldness only a deceased body could obtain, but he understood why, because when his brother had died, a part of him left as well - never to return again.

Seconds turned to minutes, which turned to hours, which turned to days, then a week. In that amount of time, Caroline hadn't moved an inch from the corner of her bedroom, except the occasion she dreaded. Since she stood by Oscar's graveside in the place he was buried beside his girlfriend, she hadn't misplaced Rose once.

But, there came a time when feelings had to be subsided, like Thomas had done many a time before. In France, he became immune to emotion, in comparison to Caroline who suppressed her feelings from childhood, until the fateful day in which she saw her brother's grotesque body and wallowed in grief ever since.

Thomas wanted to protect her at all costs. As he leaned against the doorway, he couldn't bare the sight of her fragile form. With sunken eyes and sporting a silk nightgown that revealed her skin and bones, he couldn't help but think that he failed not just as a husband, but a man, too.

He took her hand in marriage and promised to have and to hold her forever, for better and for worse, sickness and in health, but he prioritised the battles over her immediate needs and it caused him great pain, and without words, he knew he'd pay this emotional debt a lot longer than the damages he'd caused to surrounding buildings in war.

Of course Thomas knew that grief affected everybody differently, but he wasn't used to this side of Caroline. Most days he'd come home and she'd be in the same place she had been in the morning - either bed or on the chair beside the window, rocking Rose in her arms. After John's demise, he continued to work vigorously because it was the only distraction he had, and hopefully with a little ushering, Caroline would be ready to get back on her feet and carry on fighting as always.

"Polly needs you back at work, sweetheart." Thomas coaxed cautiously, his tone smooth like thick honey. "I think it's a great idea. Nobody organises the place better than you do."