LOGINFLORIAN’S POVI knocked on the door and waited, Roseline standing close beside me, her hand still holding mine. A minute passed before I heard footsteps shuffling slowly on the other side.The door opened, and an elderly woman peered out at us, small glasses perched on her nose, gray hair pulled back neatly. She looked at Roseline first, polite but distant, the way you’d look at any stranger. Then her eyes moved to me.She froze.Her hand came up to her mouth, and for a second she just stared, like she’d seen something she wasn’t ready for.“It’s you,” she whispered.“I’m sorry?” I said carefully.“You look just like him,” she said, her voice shaking slightly. “Your father. God, it’s like looking right at him.”I glanced at Roseline, unsure what to say. “My name is Florian Hollis,” I said gently. “I think you might have known my parents.”The woman nodded slowly, still staring at me like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. “Clara,” she said. “Clara Simmons. Please, come in
FLORIAN’S POVWe stayed on the study floor for a while after reading the letter. Neither of us said much at first. Roseline just held the envelope, running her thumb along the edge like it might tell her something the words hadn’t already said.“Do you think we should actually go?” I asked finally.She looked up at me. “You don’t want to?”“I don’t know what I want,” I admitted. “We just got back to something that feels normal again. What if this ruins it?”“How would finding out the truth ruin anything?”“What if this Clara woman doesn’t remember anything? Or what if she tells me something I don’t want to hear?”Roseline was quiet for a second. Then she reached over and took my hand. “Florian, you’ve been looking for this woman for years. You told me that yourself. This might be the only real chance you ever get.”“I know,” I said. “That’s what scares me.”“Talk to me,” she said softly. “What are you actually scared of?”I let out a breath. “I don’t know. Maybe that she’ll tell me so
FLORIAN’S POVThe weeks that followed brought slow, gentle changes, small pieces of Roseline’s old routine gradually returning, though grief remained quietly present beneath the surface, a constant, familiar companion neither of us tried to rush away completely.She started visiting the store again, tentatively at first, spending just an hour or two to get some house stuffs before returning home exhausted, though something in her expression seemed lighter each time, small fragments of her old self slowly resurfacing.“The new pastry chef is doing as of now,” she mentioned one evening, settling onto the couch beside me sharing a full gist of how her went.”Something she hasn’t done for a while now,I was really happy that i was just smiling softly as she was revealing how her day went.“I feel better now,” she said, a faint smile touching her lips, though exhaustion remained clear in her tired eyes. I laughed softly, relieved by even this small glimpse of her familiar determination ret
FLORIAN’S POVWe sat quietly together for a long while after her quiet admission, the exhaustion in her body slowly easing into something softer, more relaxed, as she leaned fully against me for the first time in weeks. I held her carefully, my hand rubbing slow, gentle circles against her back, savoring the simple comfort of finally having her lean into me again after so many days of careful distance.“Do you want to go back upstairs?” I asked softly after a while. “Look through more of the photographs together, maybe?”She nodded slowly, straightening slightly, though she remained close beside me as we made our way carefully back up to the study. The scattered photographs still lay exactly where she’d left them, memories of her parents spread gently across the floor.We settled down together carefully among the photographs, and Roseline picked up one gently, studying it closely, a soft, wistful smile slowly touching her lips despite the fresh tears glistening in her eyes.“This one’
FLORIAN’S POVMy eyes swept quickly across the room, panic still surging violently through my chest, though relief crashed over me almost instantly the moment I spotted her.Roseline lay curled up on the study floor, surrounded by scattered photographs and old letters, her body small and still amid the chaos of memories spread out around her. For one terrifying second, my heart stopped completely, fear gripping tightly at my throat before I noticed the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest.“Roseline,” I breathed, rushing quickly toward her, dropping to my knees beside her trembling form.She stirred slightly at the sound of my voice, her eyes fluttering open weakly, confusion and exhaustion evident clearly in her tired gaze as she looked up at me.“Florian?” she whispered softly, her voice hoarse, thin.“I’m here,” I said quickly, relief flooding heavily through my voice as I gently helped her sit upright, my hands trembling slightly as I brushed strands of hair away from her tear-
FLORIAN’S POVRoseline moved into her father’s house the following week, taking only a few small bags with her, the unsigned divorce papers tucked quietly among her belongings. I helped her carry the last box to her car, my chest aching heavily the entire time, though I forced myself to remain calm, steady, respecting the space she desperately needed.“Call me if you need anything,” I said softly as she settled into the driver’s seat, my hand resting gently against the open car door.“I will,” she said quietly, though her eyes remained distant, exhausted, the weight of her grief still heavy behind them.I watched her drive away slowly, the taillights fading gradually into the darkness, an unbearable ache settling deeply into my chest as the reality of our separation finally, truly sank in. I stood there for a long moment afterward, staring silently at the empty driveway, wondering exactly how we had reached this point, wondering exactly how long the distance between us would need to s







