5. Miguel Benites
1420 Words
Driving to the cemetery that morning should have been simple.
But for me, it felt like a journey weighed down by emotions I didn’t know how to control. The steering wheel felt heavy in my hands, the low hum of the engine cutting through the silence inside the car, amplifying the storm raging in my chest.
The city passed slowly outside the window, but I didn’t really see it. All I could focus on was the road leading me to the place I had avoided for months—the place where time had stopped the day Helena died.
Every traffic light, every turn, reminded me of her. Her smile. The way she held my hand. The softness in her voice that used to calm my fears.
I pulled into the cemetery and parked, my hands still trembling, my chest tight. The morning air felt colder there, sharper somehow, and the peace people searched for in that place seemed to escape me entirely.
I walked slowly along the marble paths, surrounded by flowers, trying to find her grave—the place where her memory would live forever.
Before that, though, I stopped at the small flower shop by the entrance. I carefully chose a bouquet of white lilies—her favorite, the same ones that used to fill our home during our happiest days.
The vendor handed them to me with a gentle smile, as if he could see the weight I was carrying.
With the bouquet in my hands, I crossed the cemetery, passing dozens of crosses, names, and dates—each one telling a story of love, loss, and longing. I searched for her name on every headstone, my heart beating harder with each step.
Then I found it.
Helena Benites.
The letters carved into the white stone seemed to glow under the pale morning sun. Beside it, an empty vase waiting for the flowers I brought.
I knelt carefully in front of the grave. The weight of missing her crushed my chest, and the words I wanted to say tangled in my throat.
Still, I took a deep breath and began.
“Helena… there’s so much I wish I could tell you. It’s been two years since you left, and it still feels like I’m learning how to live without you.”
My voice broke, and the tears came. I wiped them away, feeling the cold marble against my knees.
“You know how hard it’s been, don’t you? The fight against the drinking… the days I thought about giving up, about letting myself sink into that emptiness.”
I placed the flowers in the vase, gently—like I was offering her a piece of my heart.
“Giulia misses you every single day. I try to be strong for her—for us—but there are moments when the pain is so heavy it feels like I’m going to break.”
I told her about the sleepless nights. The doubts. The fear of not being enough. I told her about the love I still carried for her, even if she wasn’t there to hear it anymore.
“But I promise you, Helena… I’ll keep fighting. I’ll be the father you always dreamed I could be.”
The silence of the cemetery wrapped around me, and for a moment, it almost felt like she was there—listening.
Eventually, I stood up. A little lighter, but still aware the fight was far from over.
As I walked back to the car, a thought crept into my mind—a new challenge, one that could change everything.
The drive back felt slower.
The sun was already warming the city, people moving through their routines, but I felt disconnected from all of it. I fastened my seatbelt, started the engine, and left the cemetery behind—carrying my promise to Helena and the weight of an uncertain future.
On the way, I thought about Giulia.
Was she happy? Did she miss her mother as much as I did?
My chest tightened at the thought of her smile—the one I would do anything to protect.
Life goes on, I told myself. No matter how hard it is, I have to show up for her.
I arrived at the company, squeezing into a tight parking spot, already bracing myself for the flood of meetings and decisions waiting for me.
I went straight to my office, trying to focus, but my mind was still stuck in everything I had just felt.
Then the phone rang.
Carmen’s calm voice filled the room.
“Mr. Miguel, Isa will be arriving soon.”
A faint smile touched my lips—something between nerves and hope.
“She’s really coming today?”
“Yes. The girl is traveling far, to a foreign country. Have you prepared the house for her arrival?”
I paused for a moment.
“I’ve done what I can. But I don’t know how this is going to go.”
She sighed softly, as if she understood every concern I had.
“Take it easy on her, sir. Isa will need a safe place—someone she can trust.”
I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me.
“Thank you, Carmen. I’ll do my best.”
I hung up, my heart picking up its pace.
Her arrival meant more than just a change in routine.
It was a new chance.
A chance to rebuild what life had broken.
I leaned back in my chair, closing my eyes for a moment, trying to steady my thoughts.
When I opened them, my gaze fell on the picture frame on my desk.
Giulia as a baby, in Helena’s arms, both of them smiling with that kind of innocence only children seem to carry.
The image brought both comfort and pain.
A reminder of what I had lost—and what I was still fighting to protect.
My eyes drifted to the small bar in the corner of the office.
The whiskey bottle caught the light, almost calling out to me.
The urge to pour a drink—to drown everything in that bitter burn—came fast and strong, like a wave threatening to pull me under.
For a moment, I almost gave in.
But then I remembered my promises.
To be strong for Giulia.
To honor Helena.
To try—just one more day.
I stood up, grabbed my coat, and prepared myself for the last task of the day.
Telling Giulia about the stranger who was about to enter our lives.
The drive home wasn’t easy.
I rehearsed a dozen different ways to tell her.
When I arrived, I found her in her room, trying to read a children’s book on her own.
The sight broke my heart.
My daughter, sitting on the bed in her pink pajamas, with nothing but her teddy bear for company.
I walked closer, and her eyes lit up the moment she saw me.
“Daddy, you’re home!”
She dropped the book and ran into my arms, settling comfortably on my lap.
“How was your day, sweetheart?” I asked, resting my head lightly against hers.
“It was good. Auntie Carmen made cake.”
“Cake again?”
She nodded.
“I need to tell you something,” I said gently. “Tomorrow, someone new is coming to stay with us.”
“New?” Her eyes sparkled with curiosity.
“Yes. A friend who will spend more time with you and take care of you while I’m at work.”
“Like Auntie Carmen?”
“Something like that. But her name is Isa… and she’ll be your friend.”
She thought for a moment, stroking her teddy bear.
“I like having a friend… but what if I don’t like Isa?”
“That won’t happen, sweetheart. She’s excited to meet you too.”
She didn’t answer, and my chest tightened.
“Can you think about it a little?” I asked.
“A little.”
“What if I tell you a story?” I teased, kissing her cheek.
Her fear seemed to soften.
“Only if it’s a princess story.”
I reached for the book on the nightstand.
“Then a princess it is.”
As she listened, slowly growing sleepy, my mind drifted far away—filled with the possibility that this could all go wrong.
That maybe…
we were all making a mistake.
What would I do if Giulia didn’t accept the new nanny?
- Writer
