Chapter 1
Chapter 1
“Everything in life is temporary, my child—looks, money, possessions. Don’t cling to them. Don’t place too much value on them. Look for people with good hearts. That’s what truly matters.”
Isabelle:
It was a grey morning. The sky hung heavy over the city, and the air was damp and cold. I hated November. That clammy, colorless time of year when everything seemed to stand still. Just as I was driving to work, it started to rain – not gently or poetically, but cold and unpleasant. By the time I walked from my car to the practice, I was soaking wet. Rain dripped from my hair, and my clothes clung to my body.
“Good morning,” I greeted Chloe, our receptionist, wiping the water from my forehead.
“Doesn’t look like a good morning for you – not with how you look,” she said with an awkward smile.
“Don’t ask. The weather is awful. I really hate this time of year. Is my 8 o’clock patient here yet?” I asked, trying to keep my mood in check.
“Yes, she’s already in treatment room 2,” she said, handing me the patient’s file.
I skimmed the notes. A 25-year-old woman had been in a minor rear-end collision a week ago. Nothing serious, but she was complaining of back pain. Probably just tension. I took a deep breath and forced myself into work mode.
I’m a trained nurse with additional qualifications in physiotherapy. I’ve been working in a shared practice with several other colleagues ever since. It’s a profession that helps others and often pushes me to my limits.
The day was packed. One of those days where you barely have time to breathe. But a glance at the clock told me: it was time to go home. And my mind was already somewhere else with him. With my father.
I had to hurry. I wanted to visit him at the hospital. He’d had a heart attack a month ago and had been there ever since. The doctors had spoken of the need for bypass surgery. Blocked arteries. They said it wasn’t unusual for someone his age. But I didn’t think it was just his heart. It had been broken. For a long time.
Ever since my mother had left us, he’d been alone. I was six years old when it happened. And he’d raised me on his own ever since. Strong, reliable, always there. But in his quiet moments, when he stared out the window at night, gaze lost in the darkness, I saw something else. Pain. Longing. Maybe even guilt. He would write in his journal then. Quietly. Without ever saying a word about her. He never spoke badly of her, not even when I cried because of her. He would just hold me and stay silent. But I could feel it had wounded him deeply.
I no longer mourned her. She was gone. She had left us. And my father and I – we went on alone. In our own way. We had each other. And that was enough. Or so I thought.
“Hi Dad, how are you today?” I asked as I stepped into his room.
“Hi, sweetheart. I’m doing well. I’m already looking forward to getting out of here and going out to eat with you. I’ve missed our meals together. How about a good steak?” he said cheerfully.
Despite everything, I had to smile. “Oh come on, Dad, you know you have to stick to your diet plan. You shouldn’t eat that much meat, it’s bad for your heart. The doctors said so,” I reminded him gently.
He looked a little disappointed, but the smile didn’t leave his face. “Alright then, we’ll do something else. Maybe a movie?” he said with a wink.
How could he be so full of life? Where did he find the strength? I was so scared about the operation tomorrow. He was everything to me. But I knew he was only pretending to be strong – to give me courage. To ease my fear. He was playing the rock, even though he was standing on shaky ground himself. He wanted to protect me. But really, it was my job to hold him up.
I was so afraid of losing him. Just like I’d lost my mother.
“Yes, let’s do that, Dad,” I replied with a soft, almost fragile smile.
On the way home, my phone rang. Sophie.
“Hey, how are you?” I heard her familiar voice.
“Hey. Oh, you know – I just visited my dad in the hospital. His surgery’s tomorrow, like I told you. I’m walking home now,” I said.
“I know, love. But hurry up, I’m starting to get cold,” she replied.
I frowned. “What do you mean? Where are you?” I asked, confused.
“I’m standing in front of your door. You really thought I’d leave you alone with something this big going on?” she said – I could hear the smile in her voice.
My heart skipped a beat. I stopped in my tracks for a moment. I hadn’t expected this and that made it hit even harder. I hung up and started to run.
And there she was with her suitcases. My best friend. We threw our arms around each other. I had missed her so much. In her embrace, part of the weight I’d been carrying these past weeks began to lift.
Sophie and I had known each other since school. Since marrying a wealthy civil engineer, she no longer lived in the area.
“I’m so happy to see you. You’re the best friend anyone could ever wish for. Thank you for being here,” I said, holding her tightly again.
“Of course, Belle. I wouldn’t let you go through this alone. Even if I live farther away now – you’re still so important to me. You were always there for me too. I’m glad we have each other,” she replied, brushing a strand of hair from my face.
That evening, we talked for hours, about her daily life, her work, her husband Henry. It felt good to have someone to talk to. No masks. No need to be strong.
“So, what about your love life? Still no man in sight?” she teased with a grin.
I rolled my eyes. “Oh please. Where would I find the time? Between work, hospital visits, and helping my dad recover, there’s barely any left. I want him to get better first – then I can think about all that,” I said. But even as I said it, I felt a slight tug in my chest.
Sophie sighed. “Belle, that makes me sad. You don’t hang out with friends, you don’t date, you need to do something for yourself. Make new connections, meet someone amazing. You always put everyone else first, but you’re neglecting yourself. I love your dad too, but I’m sure he’d be happy to see you with someone by your side.”
I stayed quiet. Her words hit home. Not because they were wrong, but because they were true.
“Yeah, you’re probably right. Let’s see how things go with my dad. Right now, I just can’t think about anything else,” I admitted.
That night, we sat together like we used to – watching movies, talking, laughing, and eventually fell asleep, exhausted but with warm hearts.
