A Christmas back home

NewYork

Theo squeezed my hand gently. “She’s watching over you, Su. Always.”

And for the first time in days, I felt a small, fleeting sense of peace.

But peace was a fragile thing, easily shattered. The moment we stepped back into my house, the walls seemed to close in on me again. Every corner, every scent, every shadow held echoes of my mother. The way she used to hum while cooking, the faint trace of her perfume still lingering in her room, the stack of books on the coffee table she had been meaning to finish—all of it felt like a ghost of her presence, a cruel reminder that she was gone.

I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t stay here.

I lay awake that night, staring at the ceiling, counting the cracks in the plaster, my mind swirling with thoughts I couldn’t escape. The grief was unbearable, but it wasn’t just the loss. It was fear. The fear of being alone. The fear of never knowing who I was without her. The fear of sinking so deep into this sorrow that I would never find my way out.

Theo was my anchor, but even he couldn’t save me from the abyss inside me. He tried—oh, how he tried—sitting with me in silence, talking to me about anything and everything, making sure I ate even when I had no appetite. But nothing could fill the void.

And so, when the acceptance letter arrived in the mail—a Fulbright scholarship, a chance to study abroad, a ticket out of this town, out of this house that felt like a tomb—I knew what I had to do.

Leaving wasn’t easy. Telling Theo was even harder.

“You’re leaving?” His voice cracked, disbelief flickering in his dark eyes. “Su, you never even mentioned applying.”

I swallowed hard, gripping the edges of the letter like it was my lifeline. “I didn’t think I would get it.”

“And now that you have?” He stepped closer, his expression guarded.

“I have to go, Theo.” My voice wavered. “I can’t stay here, everything reminds me of her. Every single thing. And it’s… it’s suffocating me.”

Theo ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “I get it. I do. But… what about (he hesitated) everybody here?”

He hesitated. My heart clenched. “I don’t know how to be here without her,” I whispered. “And I don’t know who I am outside this grief. I need to find out. I need to breathe, Theo.”

He studied me for a long moment, and for the first time, I saw the hurt he was trying to hide. But then he nodded, because he always understood, even when it hurt him. “Then go,” he said softly. “But don’t forget you have a home here. You have me, us, all of us.”

I wanted to promise I would come back. But the truth was, I didn’t know if I could.

The flight was long, the airport bustling with voices I didn’t recognize, faces that didn’t know me or my pain. I had never been so far from home, and yet, I had never felt more lost.

The city was beautiful, vast, and full of life. It should have been exhilarating. It should have felt like a fresh start. But the emptiness inside me remained. It followed me across the ocean, through crowded lecture halls and lonely dorm rooms. No matter how much I studied, how many new places I explored, how many new people I met, I couldn’t outrun the ache in my chest.

Then I met Jack.

He was charming, kind, and patient in ways I had never known. He made me laugh when I had forgotten how to, listened when I needed to be heard. I fell in love with him because he made me feel something other than grief. And when he proposed, I said yes, hoping that love would finally fill the void inside me.

But it wasn't love.

The cracks in our marriage began to show too soon. Jack wanted a life full of adventure and spontaneity, while I was still trying to piece myself back together. He couldn’t understand the need for him to be available, why I wasn’t able to just adapt to another lonely home and accept that he was busy. The arguments became more frequent, the silence between us heavier. I felt myself slipping further away, retreating into the very loneliness I had tried to escape.

I realized then that I had made a mistake. I had been searching for salvation in someone else when what I truly needed was to heal on my own.

Months passed. The seasons changed, and our marriage drifted into an abyss. Some nights, I dreamed of a happy life, of Jack's voice calling my name. Other nights, I woke up gasping for air, drowning in the loneliness I had created for myself, and hence, decided to go back home.

Flashback ends...