Warning: talk about grief in the first part of the chapter. It's nothing too deep, but I prefer to warn if some people are sensitive about this subject. 💕

Also, don't forget to listen to the song above because it definitely inspired this chapter, and it'll set the mood!

'No there's no starting over

Without finding closure.'

*ALTHEA'S POV*

October 10, 2023.

'Hey, how are you doing?

Just a little message to show you how much your godson is loving his new jacket :)'

Kylie's message appeared to save me out of boredom—or from Linda's scolding, as my thumb had been hovering over my work inbox.

Right on time, as always.

Seeing the numbers 9.55 above today's date, it was not even 7 am in California, but she was surely already baking her second or third batch of muffins for the morning rush at the bakery.

And she still took the time to text me, like for every meaningful date.

I had no idea how she did it. How could she even know seven years ago I'd arrived at Lotus Bay high school and my life had changed forever? Was it a coincidence? Some sort of instincts?

There was no other logical explanation for her to know every single meaningful date.

Nevertheless, as if it were her mission every time, she managed to stretch a small smile on my tight lips when I opened the video attached, and a ball of white and black fur took over the screen, parading on the grass and wiggling its tail.

Cucciolo, the crossbred dog, which Kylie had named me godmother of, even if I'd never met him in person.

I wasn't even sure what this role meant, apart from sending him pet clothes. Would I be responsible for him if they traveled abroad? Or was it his godfather's role? Who was even his godfather?

I was questioning too many things today, instead of simply replying with an 'I'm fine and you?' along with a comment about Cucciolo being the cutest model.

It was what happened when you had nothing else to do. Questions started swirling in your mind, soon taking what-ifs, could've, would've, and should've in a spiral you couldn't control, and next, your thoughts were drifting and teetering too close to a dangerous abyss.

So before another question could form, I sent the usual reply and looked for something to focus my thoughts on... for the next three weeks.

Well, not exactly because Jordon would hopefully have a day, maybe a day and a half, off work. Besides, his mother would arrive at midday for a nine days stay, and she would undoubtedly keep me busy.

To think I was even eager to see her. Anyone who knew her would understand what it meant.

Anyway, it left me about 10 days, including some in which my phone would ring with Kylie's texts. Did it change much, though?

Another question...

I really had to find something to do. Thus, like any responsible and sane adult, I searched for a solution... on Google.

Even if it wasn't the wisest, the hundreds of pages popping on my phone screen would at least occupy me for the rest of the morning, and maybe I would find an idea in one of those 'best five things to do when you have a lot of alone time'.

1. Go on a girls' trip—Everyone didn't have the same definition of 'alone' apparently, though I still looked at the next slide.

2. Try a new hobby like drawing, sewing... I liked this idea a lot, but if Linda came to know about this... Next slide.

3. Redecorate your apartment. My gaze lifted from the screen as I considered the thought, finding the four neutral gray walls and picturing them in this year's trending colors, maybe a shade darker. However, I would have to ask the landlord, and by the time I would get his approval, I would already be back at work.

As for the few pieces of furniture, they were almost as fresh as new, except for my desk in the corner farthest away from the window. The sofa I'd been seated on for the past 30 minutes surely didn't have an imprint of my behind as precise as the office chair from that one year of remote work—Next slide.

I quickly averted my eyes from the angled lamp that was still stinging my eyes, even turned off.

4. Do some Spring cleaning. Or in this case, Fall cleaning. I could easily, and I had already yesterday, during my first few hours of vacation. From the single remote on the coffee table to the fashion books on the top shelf, there was not a speck of dust.

After checking with the tip of my finger, it was so polished that when I moved it on the phone, it glided farther than the next last slide, passing to the small article at the bottom.

Advice to cope with—

"Grief. Today we're talking about grief." A feminine voice arose over the sound of mild applause, both coming from my phone and making me drop the device on the hardwood floor with a loud thud.

It didn't stop the voice, though.

"We'll talk about various recognized methods to get over the loss of a loved one, and then, we'll also hear from people who've lived it."

As if there were a method for this.

Whatever local morning show this video came from, they would surely preach there was, and the 'easy steps' were in a book, which grief-stricken people would rush to buy, climbing out of their pile of tissues, and covering their puffy eyes with a ton of make-up before opting for black sunglasses when it wouldn't work. Only to realize there was no miracle cure. They still had the same hole inside their chest, and now, also one in their bank account.

I would have rolled my eyes, if I hadn't been too busy scrambling on the floor for my phone like it were some weapon of mass destruction.

Lucky that it wasn't; otherwise, New York would have been eradicated as my fingers tapped frantically on the screen, and instead of stopping, the video fast-forwarded.

I didn't even think of turning off the phone as I watched with wide eyes the smiling presenter give way to an older woman.

"I know you're probably thinking this is bulls*** because you don't get over grief just like that, just with a book."

It was the part with people who had experienced grief. I knew it instantly, not at the dark color of the woman's clothes, but because of something familiar in the depths of her gaze.

"In fact, there is no way to get over it. The saying about 'time healing all wounds' doesn't work when your chest is ripped open and you're robbed of a part of your heart.

"I lost my daughter five years ago, and I can tell you that the obliterating pain when the cops announced the news and the ground gave way under my feet, is still the same to this day. You just get used to it. Like someone who's had a member amputated."

I swallowed harshly her words, the last one alone enough to make me choke and raise all my alarms to stop the video. Yet my fingers didn't even twitch on the screen.

"The pain never goes away, but you continue to walk through, unstable and numb. Some days, you feel like you can do everything normally, and on others, you're crumbling to the floor.

"And what most people don't realize is that it isn't only on birthdays or important dates. Every day, everything is a reminder. The new song of her favorite singer on the radio. The sight of a bunny because it's the nickname you'd used to call her."

A pack of spaghetti because he would lecture anyone who dared to break them in half.

"Or just because it's Thursday, and it was the day she saw her crush at her sports class and gushed all about it later." She smiled, a painful smile, the kind that didn't pull on the zygomatic muscles but wrenched deep in the guts, to the point everyone held their breath for the moment she would break.

Yet she only let out a shaky sigh that echoed in my chest.

"I don't need tissues, thanks, Cameron."

I remembered it was some re-run show I was watching as she nodded to the presenter who flashed quickly on the screen.

Still, the woman was talking to me.

"If you're mourning yourself, there's two possibilities: you're in tears right now and wondering how I can be so heartless, or you know exactly why because you too have cried all your tears."

My eyes blinked slowly as if there was a possible confusion, when I saw too clearly the wrinkles around her pinched lips.

"In that case, it can be tricky because you can convince everyone, including yourself, that you're fine, but you still have that wound, and you keep walking even on days your knees are giving out. You don't acknowledge the pain, or any other emotion.

"Personally, I'd come to the point everything felt like I was watching it from behind a glass wall. Until one day, when one of my colleagues searched for volunteers to help serve food at the local shelter during the holidays, which are one of the worst periods for people who've lost a loved one, like any other free time," she noted, the aside making me avert my gaze for an instant.

"So I offered to help, and there, one of the many people I served reached out and hugged me, thanking us because it was her first holidays in years she wasn't alone. Though she didn't realize she helped me just as much because her tears of thankfulness reached beyond that glass wall."

The woman still wasn't crying, yet the hollowness in her eyes filled with a soft gleam as she continued, "Since then, I volunteer every week, and I've also started my own charity for grieving people.

"Of course, it doesn't heal the wound, but it allows us to focus on something else, while still being aware of our emotions. After all, volunteering is about sharing, sharing food, sharing moments, sharing joy, and other emotions, and its benefits have been scientifically proven. You can even honor the ones you've lost that way."

She looked up as if she could see farther than the ceiling above her head, and maybe she did because when her gaze came back down, it pierced through the screen and until my tight chest.

"So if you've recognized yourself in at least one of the things I've said before, I really advise you to try volunteering. I promise it helps, not getting over, but getting better. I've witnessed it for a lot of people.

"And what do you have to lose anyway, except some time?"

Well, I did have some time.

***

October 11, 2023.

"Don't you think seeing a psychologist would be safer?"

I wasn't sure whose eyes popped out the most at the question: the check-in agent's or my dark ones, whose reflection I glimpsed on the glass separating me from the clueless woman in blue uniform.

At least, she didn't have to face the rest of the conversation coming as I offered her a sorry smile and a 'thank you' before turning to my future mother-in-law.

"I understand that you need closure before getting married, but I'm not reassured to let you go alone on the other side of the country, and I'm not even talking about all the germs you could get in a children's hospital."

"You don't have to worry about the germs. It's a clinic for physically disabled kids, so there's no risk," I assured, grabbing her forearm to lead her away from the line and all those eyes on us. At least, the narrowed, impatient ones because Mrs. Gim still attracted some curious gazes around.

Despite her 5'3 height, she managed to stand out in the wide New York airport, her voice as loud as the double C logo on her purse, and her slimmed nose rising above the average crowd.

"But why does it have to be so far? And why now? If I didn't know you better, I would think you want to avoid me?"

No, of course, not. It only contributed up to 50% to my decision when they offered me to come immediately. For the rest, I'd accidentally clicked on a video about grief online, and as I'd recognized myself in every word the woman had said, I decided to give it a try.

But I doubted these arguments would help her lifted eyebrows come down when I didn't even know the name of the TV show which the video came from.

The second the woman had stopped talking, my shaky fingers had closed it; I'd glanced down at my curled-up form in a too-familiar position on the cold floor, and the next second, I'd opened another tab, looking up for Lotus Bay Physiotherapy Clinic.

In less than three minutes, it had been settled, and I still had trouble processing it myself, how everything had unfolded, how I'd acted so impulsively.

"Mom, I already told you it has nothing to do with you. The service is understaffed, so they needed volunteers the soonest possible." Jordon appeared between us, his arm now emptied of luggage wrapping around my waist in support, as he understood, thankfully.

He always understood.

Well, at first, he'd stared at me as if contemplating calling NASA and reporting an alien abduction, but once I'd exposed reasonable arguments, he'd understood.

"Besides, it's in her old town, so Althea won't be lost, nor alone. She has her old friends there."

"Yes, and I chose this clinic because it's close to Asher's heart," I added in the hope of easing her pinched expression, and only when it tensed into an even more aghast look, did I take in my words. "I mean, was."

"Dear... I really think you should see a psychologist. Helping kids can't replace the work of a professional."

"Mom." Jordon sighed, looking like the one who needed the most a psychoanalyze when his gaze traveled between his phone and his mother, and none of them was stopping.

"I've been through the same thing when I lost Prince, and it's only thanks to Dr. Smith that I got over grief. Let me give you his number!"

"Mrs. Gim, thanks, it's really kind of you, but I don't need it." I put my hand over hers before she could rummage through her Channel bag, and I offered her my best thankful smile, or at least, a tight-lipped version of it. "Don't worry about me. I'm fine."

Fine enough to not let out the screams inside that cursed her for even thinking we'd been through the same things because as close as she'd been to her wrinkled chihuahua, there was no comparison with the man that had got my heart since the second I'd met him.

Yet not fine enough to open up about those painful cries to a professional.

"And she's going to be late if you continue." Jordon nudged me towards the security line, and I gladly let him lead me away from his mother, after I'd told her my polite goodbyes and he'd yielded to give me the number later, of course.

"Sorry for my mom..." He turned to face me as we stopped near the security check lines, which were moving steadily.

In no time, it would be my turn, and I would be on the plane.

If Mrs. Gim had eclipsed the surroundings for an instant, now, I couldn't avoid the reminders of where I was: the people bustling all around, the beeps of the security scanners, the anxious energy pervading the air, and even the way Jordon's arms wrapped a little tighter around me when I leaned into him.

"It's fine. I'm sure you can make it up..."

"Can I?"

I didn't even have to answer as his gaze traveled from my lips to somewhere behind me, which I could only guess was the bathroom door when he walked us backward and swooped on my lips before I could turn around.

Though it didn't matter where we were as I closed my eyes, and the hubbub faded into the background, my attention slowly caught by the soft caresses of his mouth, the warmth of his chest so close, the taste of coffee on the tip of my demanding tongue, and the smoothness of his expensive shirt under my fingertips.

He soon had my breath too, and more was about to follow when he pulled away.

"I think the rest will have to wait for when you come back."

Although the shallow exhale flowed out of his parted lips, it was my chest that fell down heavily as I reopened my eyes to the same surroundings. Well, a large billboard was sheltering us from one side of the crowded airport hall, yet the security gates were still there on my left, with the same sign announcing the impending Los Angeles flight.

"Maybe I should stay then?"

"Aw, I'll miss you too, babe." He chuckled, softly unwrapping my fist from his white shirt, and as he kissed my ring finger, I could really take in how passionate I'd been on the now-crinkled fabric and on his mouth. "But you know you have to go. Think about all the kids' lives you can change with this beautiful smile of yours."

I wasn't sure I could really change lives, even when he poked the corners of my lips for that smile to stretch, yet I'd promised to help, so I couldn't turn back now.

'You can't say no if it's for charity...'

Will she change lives? Or will her life change? 😏

We'll find out soon! In the meantime, tell me what you think of this solution to get better and occupy herself. Did you expect this? 👀

Also, I need to know your thoughts on Jordon's mom! She's... special lol 😂.

And Kylie's texts? How can she guess all those meaningful dates? 👀😉🤫

Tell me everything in the comments, and don't forget to vote ⭐ if you're excited about what's to come (I am!! 🤭🤭).