Chapter 1
There are happy days and sad ones; today definitely falls into the latter category.
There are events, small or big, that change the course of life, lightly or heavily.
Sometimes you can foresee the outcome of the change, other times you need to walk a while before discovering it.
And I have no idea how this will affect my life.
One thing, however, I know for sure: I cannot stop and throw away years of hard work.
Just like in the oldest of clichés, the day came without a single ray of light, only heavy gray clouds and the sound of a storm in the distance.
A constant whisper of voices, a few sobs, and many “condolences.” The creak of the wooden floor with each step, the roar of an engine announcing the arrival of more people.
Never before have I wanted so badly to leave, without looking back, without having to see the painted suffering on people’s faces.
But is it really suffering?
For some, I’m certain it is; for others, it’s just a mask so they don’t risk being different.
“I’m so sorry, Silea. I can only imagine how you must feel right now.”
More hands squeezing mine in a poor attempt at support.
Can you really imagine how I feel?
I limit myself to nodding, hoping they’ll find someone else to shower with their magical support.
I look at the front door left wide open: an invitation for anyone who wants to honor this damned loss.
A door that has always been open, to anyone, first and foremost to me.
A door that has given much and taken just as much.
With determined steps, I head outside, intent on smoking a cigarette.
The wind hits me straight in the face and the smell of wet earth invades my nose. In the driveway, there are at least twenty cars, and five more are approaching.
I can’t wait for all of this to be over.
I quickly slip to the back before anyone sees me; I couldn’t bear another condolence or handshake.
In front of me, the tall trees marking the entrance to the woods sway slowly, almost as if dancing.
I light my cigarette with ease and inhale deeply.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Not now. Not him.
“You hid yourself, I see. You lasted longer than I thought.”
Just what I needed… him.
I don’t even bother to look at his face: I’d recognize that damned voice anywhere.
So deep, so irritating.
I hear the sound of a lighter and a cloud of smoke passes in front of me.
I don’t know whether to get up and leave or ignore him completely.
I was here first anyway…
“It can’t be easy for you and—”
I stop him immediately, raising a hand.
“Don’t you start too. I’ve had enough already.”
I can’t look pathetic even to him.
I don’t want more comforting words, they’re useless.
Time will dull the gaping hole in my chest, not people’s pity.
“Silea…”
“No, Axel. Enough.”
For the first time, I turn to look him in the face and it feels like the pressure drops under my feet, my heart in my throat.
I’ve never seen such an expression on his face. Ever.
“I don’t care if you don’t want to hear what I have to say, I’ll say it anyway.”
God, how irritating…
“You’re going through shit right now and I’m truly sorry. That doesn’t mean our inner war ends, or that I suddenly like you, but today let’s call a truce.”
I hate the way he’s looking at me.
I hate those green eyes trying to pierce through my soul.
“He was very important to you, and you were just as important to him. You were the only one who made him want to live again, to continue his passion.”
My throat begins to burn, my vision blurs, and I’m terrified I’ll start crying in front of him.
“You two built something wonderful, and now that Paul is gone, you’re the one who must take the reins. He would have wanted that, and you need to carry the empire forward. He was always proud of you.”
Fuck.
For the first time, I don’t know what to say.
I never imagined hearing those words from his mouth.
I almost want to slap him, but inside I feel a sense of gratitude.
He’s the only one who said the right words to me.
“Thank you” is the only thing I can manage to say in this moment.
He stands up, brushing the leaves off his black jeans, and looks me straight in the eyes.
“Get ready, because it won’t be easy at all.”
And with that, he leaves, while I’m left with a mix of worry and thoughts.
Taking the reins…
I can’t. I’m not capable.
How can I take on such a huge responsibility alone, without him?
Holding in my hands something that involves the lives of so many people, not to mention all those against us or who want our destruction.
Over the years I’ve heard so many voices saying I wasn’t good for this place, or that I was just a girl incapable of keeping control of situations.
Not that I ever cared what people said—honestly, they could all go to hell.
And yet, on the other hand, leaving it all in someone else’s hands tears me apart.
Certainly, if I really wanted to lead, I couldn’t just do it like that: there would be meetings, votes, and so many other things.
I have many people on my side, but just as many waiting for me to disappear.
I need to think, I need to figure out what’s best—for me and for everyone else.
“Sweetheart, come, it’s time.”
A warm voice awakens me from my thoughts.
Two gentle amber eyes, marked by time and countless tears, look at me tenderly.
Dalia really can understand my pain—in fact, she’s sharing it with me, silently.
She lightly takes my hand and leads me back inside.
Dozens of eyes fix on me as I take a deep breath.
I almost feel guilty for breathing so easily…
It’s time to give a proper farewell to my old man.
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Author’s Note
Hello readers!
My name is Elisa. I’ve decided to take this journey where I bring out of my head this story completely invented by me.
Little by little, I’ll put everything down “on paper.”
I’m very curious to know what you think, what emotions it stirs in you, and above all, if you enjoy it.
I welcome all your thoughts, questions, and opinions.
This story was originally written in Italian, and I decided to share it here in English as well. Please forgive any little mistakes along the way.
A big hug,
Belsk 💜
