Nicoleta slowly walked down the hall, her ears focused to find the slightest sounds. The door to the office was open. Peering inside, she saw no one but a tray with fresh breakfast on the desk. Leaving the room, she continued her search through the house.
The first sounds she heard were in the hall outside her parents' bedroom. Nicoleta gently pushed open the door, scanning the room as she entered. No one. A soft sigh tickled her ear, and she stayed quiet, waiting. A sniffle came from the walk-in closet.
Nicoleta found her mother, Otilia, huddled in a corner of the closet, crying while clutching a shirt.
"Mom," Nicoleta whispered.
Otilia glanced at her daughter, then broke into sobs. "I wanted to surprise your father for breakfast." She said defeatedly. Her sobs turned into hysteric laughter and crying.
"Mom, it's been 4 months. You can't keep pretending he's away. You have to grieve and let go."
"No."
"You're not the only one who lost Dad. I know how you feel, but you have to move on."
Otilia glared at her daughter. "Get out!" She spat angrily. "You don't know how I feel. The love of my life is dead."
When Nicoleta made no movement to leave, Otilia stormed out of the closet.
"I will never see him, feel his touch, hear his voice, or kiss his lips ever again. Every room I go into, he's in the corner of my eye, and when I look round, he's gone. His smell has been fading from the house. I am losing him again!" she said angrily, pacing across the room.
"Stop hiding from your grief and accept that he's gone."
Otilia turned around. Nicoleta's face showed her concern, but her eyes still held their shine. "How rational you are. I suppose if you were in my position, it would be as easy as you say. Rationality loses against a generation-long love affair."
"You need a break from your memories and the house. Stay with me for a while." Nicoleta offered.
"Nicky, you and Franklin are newlyweds."
"We've been married for over a year."
"And you're still figuring each other and your relationship out. The last thing you need is me imposing on you."
"Mom, you're not okay. I can't just leave you here alone."
"Yes, you can. I don't need to be okay. I need your father back."
The mother-daughter pair stood in silence, looking at each other. Nicoleta spoke first.
"Why not book a session with your therapist?"
"There's nothing wrong with me."
"You're in denial about dad; I think that counts as a problem."
"A problem for whom? I don't have a problem, but clearly you do. Why not book yourself a session?"
Nicoleta observed Otilia; she looked tired and worn out. She'd aged 10 years in the last few months.
"He wouldn't want you like this..."
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