Caroline stood in front of the lawyer's door, her heart pounding in her chest. David was by her side, silent but present, offering his support without unnecessary words. The letter she had received a few days ago weighed heavily on her mind. She had known this moment would eventually come, but the reality of what she was about to face hit her all over again. This was the final act of the suffering she had carried since losing Jules. It would, she hoped, also be the last step before she could finally turn the page.
They crossed the threshold of the building, and Caroline immediately felt overwhelmed by a familiar sense of anxiety. It was as if she had entered a space where everything had been suspended, a place frozen in time, where the shadow of her son still lingered.
The lawyer was waiting for them in a dark office, filled with the smell of old paper and leather. He greeted them with a nod, then led them into a small adjacent room. There, a worn cardboard box marked with Jules's name rested on a table, like a relic of a past she had tried to leave behind.
Caroline forced herself to breathe deeply. She placed her hands on the table, her eyes fixed on the box, a strange sensation of floating washing over her. David sat beside her, watching her expression attentively, respecting her silence. He knew this was no mere administrative task for her; it was so much more than that. It was an act of reunion with the pain, an act of healing, and she didn't have to do it alone.
"We can begin when you're ready," the lawyer said in a calm, but icy, voice.
Caroline nodded, her fingers brushing the edge of the box before she gently lifted it. The items inside seemed ordinary: a few photos, an old notebook, worn toys, drawings Jules had made before the accident. Nothing more than memories of a child who hadn't had the time or opportunity to grow. Yet, to Caroline, each item was a world in itself.
She touched each object with infinite tenderness, as though she could feel her son through them. The drawings, one depicting a bright sun with vivid colors, the other a united family, the three of them holding hands. Caroline closed her eyes for a moment, embracing these memories with silent pain. Her son was there, alive in those images, those objects, but at the same time, he slipped away from her, as elusive as the wind.
"Look, David," she said in a trembling voice, handing him a little stuffed bear, worn and with nearly faded eyes. "He loved it, he never parted with it."
David took the bear gently, holding it slightly. His eyes filled with tears, but he didn't let them fall. He knew he wasn't the one carrying this pain. He simply stayed by her side, offering his presence, without trying to erase the sorrow she felt.
"He's still here, Caroline," he murmured, his voice full of tenderness. "Jules is still with you, in everything you do, in everything you are."
Caroline nodded, but tears began to fall slowly down her cheeks. She couldn't quite express what she was feeling, what was so heavy and present within her. She knew her son would never return, but she didn't want to lose him completely. How could she go on living with this loss? How could she reconcile with a future that, because of this absence, always seemed too uncertain?
David stood up and walked over to her. He took her in his arms, letting her cry without holding back. There was no shame in her pain, no shame in allowing herself to grieve. All he had to do was be there, to hold her heart in his hands like he held the stuffed bear, fragile and precious.
Minutes passed in a heavy silence, the outside world fading as Caroline allowed herself to feel her sorrow. Then, gently, she pulled away from him, her tears now stopped, but her heart still heavy.
"I have to let him go, David. I can't keep carrying all of this alone." Her voice was broken, but also liberated, as though simply saying those words allowed her to release an immense weight.
David looked her in the eyes, seeing for the first time that she was truly ready to accept the unacceptable. He cupped her face in his hands, offering a gentle yet strong caress.
"You're not alone, Caroline."
She looked at him with a fragile but sincere smile. He was right. She wasn't alone. She had David, she had their love, and perhaps, more importantly, she had the ability to give meaning to all of this.
Caroline turned back to the box and took Jules's drawings. She looked at them one last time before folding them carefully and placing them in her bag. Then, with trembling hands, she closed the box.
"It's time," she said, more to herself than to David. "I'm ready."
The lawyer, silent, waited, respecting this quiet ceremony. Caroline then turned to him.
"Thank you."
David gently took her hand, and they left the office together. Outside, the wind blew softly, chasing away the clouds and allowing a clearer light to break through. Caroline took a deep breath, feeling a calmness she hadn't known in a long time. It was a difficult step, but she knew she had made an important decision. The road would still be long, of course, but she was now better equipped to face it.
They walked side by side, in that soft light marking the end of one day and the beginning of a new era. An era where the past, though unchangeable, would no longer have power over their future.
Caroline knew that, in her heart, Jules would always be there. But today, she finally felt ready to live for herself, for David, and for the love that continued to grow between them.