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The magnificent Godwoods estate stood tall with striking elegance under the cool embrace of tall oak trees that stretched their branches to the sky. Wrapped in the serene silence of the morning, the narrow street seemed to carry an air of timeless grandeur, as if even time itself hesitated to touch this place. The old, yet breathtaking stone craftsmanship of the house whispered echoes of glorious days past, while a light morning breeze curled through the broad columns, murmuring like a melancholy dirge. The whole street seemed to proclaim that a great story had once been told here.
Carolina Godwood stood in the long, dimly lit hallway. The wooden floor creaked faintly under her heels, each step echoing through the old house. Her elegant white blouse hugged her slender waist perfectly, and her black pencil skirt, which ended just above her knees, accentuated the graceful curves of her body. Her dark hair cascaded in soft waves over her shoulders, her fingers absentmindedly playing with a lock that rested against her chest. She unconsciously clasped the soft fabric of her blouse - a habit, perhaps a silent expression of the emotions stirring within her.
Her gaze was fixed on a photograph carefully hung on the wall. The moment captured seemed to look back at her with a warmth untouched by time. It was a memory from eight years ago - a sunny summer day. Richard...
Her husband had his arms wrapped tightly around Carolina's shoulders, his usual cheerful and playful smile on his face. The warmth of that moment, still vivid in the photo, now twisted painfully inside her. Scharline and Tom stood beside them, still in their childhood years, their innocent faces reflecting the purity of those who have not yet learned what life holds for them. Carolina's eyes were fixed on the place where Richard's arms had embraced her. The growing emptiness within her was faintly reflected in the glass surface of the photograph. Her mind drifted back six years to the moment when a tragic car accident changed everything forever.
Carolina's gaze remained fixed on the past in the photograph. But no matter how long she looked, she knew she could never bring that moment back. Her eyes lingered on Richard's embrace, and the sharp pain in her chest took her back to that fateful day six years ago.
The weather that day had been rainy. The asphalt shone like a mirror, reflecting the light, and the sky was covered with a gray blanket. Richard was driving, and Carolina was in the passenger seat, smiling at him as she gently squeezed his hand as he drove. Tom and Scharline were in the backseat. Scharline, visibly uncomfortable with the gloomy weather, looked out the window while Tom played with his new toy. It had been an ordinary day for the family-until that curve.
A truck coming from the opposite direction lost control as it rounded the curve. Carolina remembered the panic in Richard's eyes, his instinctive turn at the wheel. A scream, the sound of metal cracking, and then... everything went silent. When she opened her eyes, the world had been turned upside down. There was broken glass everywhere, and the air was thick with the metallic smell of blood. Richard was motionless. Struggling to breathe, Carolina heard Tom's muffled sobs from the backseat. But there was no sound from Scharline. Her eyes were wide open, as if she wanted to scream, but she had lost consciousness.
The nightmare continued in the corridors of the hospital... The moment they told her Richard was gone - the moment she fell into the abyss of grief. Endless sleepless nights, tortured by the fear of losing Tom and Scharline, desperately holding on to the little bit of her family that remained. After that day, nothing was the same. Carolina didn't even give herself time to grieve. Her children needed her. She had lost Richard, but Tom and Scharline were still here, and she had to be strong.
Putting aside her grief and heartbreak, Carolina began to raise her children. After her father's death, Scharline had become distant and withdrawn. The sparkle that had once been in her eyes was gone. Tom was only twelve at the time. He couldn't fully understand what it meant to lose a father, but he could feel the changes in their home. Carolina devoted herself to their every need, trying to fill the void left by Richard. She carried her pain alone, allowing her tears to flow only in the solitude of the night, when her children could never see her.
The harsh white fluorescent lights burned her eyes. The antiseptic smell of the hallway deepened the emptiness within her, numbing her to the cold floor beneath her feet. The trembling voice of a nurse was the first thing to bring Carolina back to reality.
"Mrs. Godwoods... your husband..."
Then she couldn't remember what happened next. She couldn't remember how the words ended, the doctor's blank but sad tone... All she knew was that the thin thread beneath her feet had suddenly snapped. The whole world had fallen into silence. Someone tried to support her, hands gripped her arms, but Carolina could only stare at the door in front of her. Behind the door was Richard. And he would never say another word to her.
Her legs suddenly gave way. She pressed her hands to her chest and tried to breathe, but her lungs felt constricted. The unbearable pain in her throat threatened to explode into a scream, but no sound came out. Only a broken whisper escaped her lips.
"NO..."
Was it hours or just minutes? She didn't know. But at some point, when one of the nurses asked her something, she simply nodded and said she wanted to see Richard. And now, here she was.
When she opened the door, the room smelled like a hospital - cold, sterile, lifeless. But the man lying in the bed had once been the one who had lit up her world. He wasn't breathing anymore, but he was still Richard.
Carolina walked slowly, hesitantly, toward the bed. She held out her hands, then hesitated. Her fingers trembled. She didn't want to see him like this. But this was her last chance. She reached out, and when her fingers touched his cold skin, a shiver ran through her. She held his hand, gently running her thumb over the palm. These hands had once been warm, once offered her comfort... Now they were cold as ice.
"You shouldn't have left me..."
Her voice broke, barely more than a whisper. Tears streamed from her eyes as she ran her fingers through Richard's hair. The man who had once been full of life and laughter now lay there - silent, motionless. She closed her eyes, wishing desperately that time could rewind, that they could go back to that moment before the curve, when Richard's laughter had filled the car... But nothing would change. The world kept spinning inexorably.
She leaned down and pressed her lips to Richard's forehead. She lingered there, as if to imprint his presence on her soul, to hold on to the last traces of his warmth.
"I will always love you..."
Her voice trembled, thick with grief. When she finally pulled away, the emptiness inside her was almost a physical pain. She looked at Richard one last time, imprinting his image in her mind. Then, with slow, reluctant steps, she turned away. Half of her heart had shattered under the cold hospital lights.
The first morning without Richard...
When she woke, she didn't want to open her eyes. Her mind drifted between sleep and reality, and for a moment she could fool herself - maybe it was all just a dream, maybe Richard's warmth was still beside her. But when she finally opened her eyes, the bed was empty. Richard was gone. And he would never return.
The emptiness of the room pressed down on her chest like an overwhelming weight. She put her hands on the edge of the bed and tried to push herself up, but her body betrayed her. She was exhausted. She hadn't slept in days, had forgotten to eat. Her eyes were burning, her throat was dry. But most of all, she felt the emptiness inside.
She went to the bathroom. When she looked at her reflection in the mirror, she hardly recognized herself. Her hair was a mess, her face pale, and dark circles shadowed her tired eyes. The once calm and strong Carolina Godwoods was now a shadow of her former self. Her fingers touched the mirror lightly, but the woman staring back at her felt like a stranger.
"Mom?"
She jumped when she heard his voice. Tom was standing in the doorway. His small body seemed to disappear into the vast, boundless emptiness that surrounded them. There was something in his twelve-year-old eyes that shouldn't have been there - fear. Fear of being without his father. And in that moment, Carolina realized that she had to be strong. Not only for herself, but also so that she would not lose her children.
She took a deep breath, but it caught in her throat. She walked over to Tom, knelt down and hugged him tightly. To feel his small body in her arms gave her warmth, but it also felt like a knife stabbing her heart. For Richard was gone, and from now on everything rested on Carolina's shoulders.
"Everything will be fine, my love..."
She didn't believe her own words, but Tom had to. The little boy snuggled even closer to her. He didn't say anything - he just laid his head on her chest. And at that moment, Carolina understood. Whether she healed or not, whether she had time to grieve or not, it didn't matter. What mattered was that she would never see that fear in her children's eyes again.
The first few weeks were a nightmare.
Waking up every morning to the reality that Richard was gone. Seeing the empty chair at the table... Realizing at the end of the day that there was no one to share her words with... Each of these felt as cold as death itself.
Scharline accepted her father's death in silence. She was nineteen, and her father's absence had left a deep wound in her. She hadn't cried that day. But as the days passed, she spoke less. The light in her eyes faded. She locked herself in her room to work, rarely leaving the house, even skipping meals. When Carolina called her, she would give brief answers before retreating into silence.
But Tom was different. Every night he crawled into his mother's bed. He only did that when he had nightmares, but now he didn't even need to dream. He just needed to be close to her.
One night, as Carolina lay half asleep, she heard his muffled sobs.
"Has Papa forgotten us?"
At that moment, every wall inside her crumbled. Carolina held her son tightly and whispered, "No, never. But she couldn't stop the tears from streaming down her cheeks.
The months that followed were a battlefield for Carolina.
Bills piled up. Without Richard, the responsibilities of the household felt overwhelming. Dealing with bank debts, providing for the children, cooking meals, keeping the house from falling apart... She had to be both mother and father. But the worst part was the loneliness. At night, when everyone was asleep, she would silently scream at Richard's empty pillow.
"What will I do, Richard? What will I do without you?"
There was no answer. Only the ticking of the clock echoed through the endless silence of the house.
Carolina stood by the large window in the living room, trapped in her thoughts. She could feel the passage of time taking a little more of a toll on her body each day. But that didn't weaken her; on the contrary, it made her stronger. Years of womanhood had added depth to her eyes and grace to her posture.
The buttoned dress in earth tones hugged her slim waist. The fabric rippled slightly with each step, adding to her elegance. Her long, dark brown hair cascaded over her shoulders, carrying with it the timeless touch of experience. The smoothness of her skin, the sharp lines of her face, and the slight upward curve of her full lips - Carolina had aged, but none of her charm had faded. Her fingers rested lightly on the arm of the chair, absentmindedly caressing the fabric. Sometimes these touches reminded her of feelings her skin had long forgotten.
At that moment, Scharline appeared at the door of the living room, a perfect contrast to her mother, embodying the freshness of youth. The simple white top she wore accentuated her slim waist and smooth skin, while the loose pants flowed effortlessly with graceful ease. Her light brown hair shone with the vitality of youth, and the curve of her lips balanced innocence and quiet allure in delicate harmony.
Her beauty was effortless, unforced; there was a purity in her eyes.
Standing next to her mother, the contrast between them was striking. Carolina, shaped by the weight of life, presented an authoritative presence, while Scharline was still discovering where life would take her.
They were bound by blood, but their womanhoods were completely different.
Carolina's mature allure was breathtaking and commanded respect. Scharline's beauty, shrouded in unspoiled innocence, was the kind you could never get tired of looking at.
She approached and asked quietly, "Mom, are you okay?" Her voice carried like a soft melody, filling the room.
Carolina turned to her daughter and smiled faintly. There was an unspoken bond between them, forged by time and pain, a bond that could never be put into words.
"I'm fine, sweetheart," Carolina replied, her forced smile still on her lips. But her eyes... her eyes betrayed her. Deep inside, there was longing and sadness.
Scharline could see the emotions her mother was trying to hide. Carolina's voice, usually strong and determined, now carried a fragile undertone; a weariness that hadn't been there before.
"I was just lost in thought," she added, softening her words as if trying to cushion them like a pillow to prevent her daughter from worrying any more.
Scharline tilted her head slightly, holding her mother's hand. The fingers that once held her with unshakable strength now felt a little more fragile, a little more delicate.
As she held her mother's hand tighter, Scharline was pulled back in time to when she was a child, and those hands were always there to protect and comfort her. But now, Scharline could feel that the one who needed support was her mother.
"Is it because of the painting?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Carolina slowly raised her head. In the dim light of the living room, she looked at her daughter and saw Richard in her. The soft waves of her brown hair, the warmth in her eyes, the way she moved her hands carefully, as if she was afraid of breaking something... Richard had always been the strongest part of her family. And now Carolina was trying to carry that strength alone.
She shook her head.
A brief smile appeared on her lips, but it was filled more with longing and yearning than joy.
Scharline gripped her mother's hand tighter. Her touch was warm and sincere, filled with the instinctive protection and compassion a child feels for a parent.
"If Dad were here today, he'd be proud of us."
The silence in the room was broken by these words.
Carolina felt the tiny crack inside her turn into a deep chasm. Richard... If he were here, would he really feel this way? His absence wasn't just a loss - it was an empty echo that echoed in Carolina's soul.
She swallowed, trying to stifle the grief rising in her throat.
"I hope so," Carolina whispered.
But there was a hesitation, an uncertainty in her voice.
Her words hung in the air, as if even she wasn't sure if she believed them.
Because Richard wasn't here. And with every day that passed, his absence grew heavier.
At night...
The nights were the hardest. When the house fell silent, the children retreated to their rooms, and the outside world fell asleep... Carolina's mind fought its hardest battles. Thoughts overwhelmed her, and as memories of the past intertwined with the uncertainty of the future, she became suffocated. Financial worries, the crushing weight of responsibility, the future of her children... It all tightened around her like a knot, pulling her deeper into an inescapable grip.
As a mother, she had to hold it all together. She had to stay strong. But deep down she was falling apart. And worst of all, she didn't have the luxury of showing it to anyone.
Scharline noticed that her mother had drifted into her thoughts. She recognized that expression - the look of someone trying to hide something, but unable to keep the grief from spilling out of their eyes. Wanting to comfort her, she gently squeezed her hand.
"You know, Mom... sometimes... sometimes it feels like Dad's still here. Like he's watching over us, protecting us."
Carolina looked at her daughter. The innocent faith of youth still sparkled in her eyes. She could still hold on to something. And for that reason alone, Carolina knew she had to keep going.
She nodded gently, took her daughter's hand in hers and stroked it gently.
"I want to feel that way too, sweetheart," she said, her voice warmer, softer this time. And maybe, just maybe, she wanted to believe it - just a little.
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