Babysitting the Billionaire's son
And yet, his face looked calm, softer somehow, as if he, too, was finally letting go.
I closed my eyes, letting the memories of earlier the graves, the tears, the quiet goodbyes fade like a distant echo. The pain that once felt endless now rested somewhere gentle inside me, no longer sharp. I knew I would never stop missing them, my parents, their voices, their love but I had learned something: grief doesn’t disappear; it simply changes shape.
“Mom,” I whispered, my lips barely moving. “Thank you for loving me in your own way. I understand now… I really do.”