Chapter 58

• Gio didn't talk. He just cried as he kept his stares away. I felt like I was going to fall to the floor from weakness. I have never witnessed him experience such pain in his entire life. He's a strong boy. That's why my heart almost broke when I saw him crying, the weight of years pressing into every tear. I realized that love alone could not erase absence, but presence could begin to fill the void left by it.
• Agustine tried to hush him again. "I love you . . . I love you so much," I heard him whisper every time he wiped his thumb on my daughter's cheek. Each gesture carried the promise of protection, the reconciliation of hearts separated by circumstance, and the fragile hope of future trust. I felt a lump in my throat, grateful for the patience and effort Agustine was pouring into repairing the bridges we had almost lost.
• I quickly approached when Gio held his head and moaned softly. At least Agustine was fixed in his seat because he was alarmed. I even heard his mom panicky calling for a nurse. We were equally confused, hearts racing, minds scrambling to ensure our children’s safety while navigating a tangled web of emotions. The room was charged with tension and love, an almost tangible energy that made every breath feel heavy and deliberate.