WITH EVERY BREATH I TAKE

GRIEF IN SILENCE

She puts her hands in the bathtub to check the temperature of the water. She loves it when the water is slightly hot. Nothing beats the sensation of a gentle burn. Soft music is playing. She disrobes and steps into the bath, finally some alone time. She needs to clear her mind. She submerges herself in the tub, letting it unwind her, steam curling around her as she leans back, eyes closed, and lets the warmth seep into every tense muscle. The soft scent of sandalwood fills the air, calming her nerves. Each breath she took slowed her running thoughts, the chaos of the past few days replaced by the gentle lapping of water against porcelain. She reached for her glass of wine on the side, taking a slow sip. Her fingers trailed along the edge of the tub.

Absent-mindedly tracing patterns as her mind wandered. For a moment, there was peace.

Ring, ring…. ring….

She picked up the phone.

It was devastating. She couldn’t believe what her aunt just said.

“No, no, no, Auntie, no!!”

She couldn’t believe what she just heard.

She was an only child; her mom died when she was young. She never got the chance to get to know her, but her dad made sure she knew who her mom was. He always told her stories about how they met and how deeply they fell in love.

His love for her mother was so big that it inspired her never to settle for less. If her mom had been loved like that, then true love must be possible.

She believed in love.

That didn’t mean she had to live it.

But her dad always reminded her that being a lone wolf was all fun and games until you find your pack, like how his life was meaningless until he met her mom.

Still, she never felt like a lone wolf until now, when her dad had just died.

“Heart attack, Auntie, that is not possible. He took his health very seriously.”

She lost it; she burst into tears. She knew, at that moment, that her life had changed forever. She had left France for a reason, and now she knew she had to go back. This time, there would be no escape.

Flashback

Celeste came home in tears. She has always been a softie, a true daddy’s girl. As soon as she opened the door, she ran straight into her father’s home sobbing, uncontrollably. “Dad, they are bullying me,” she cried. “They said I'm weird…. that I am not like other girls. That I’m too boyish because I don’t have a mom….” Her father held her tightly, “Come here, peach, OH my little munchkin, don’t cry, they are just jealous because you are Daddy’s princess.”

“But Dad ………. They hit me,” she sniffled. A shadow of concern crossed his face as he kissed her forehead gently. “Alright,” he said.

“Then we will fix that starting tomorrow.”

“You will train with me, you will learn self-defense, but listen closely, Peach, everything I teach you is to protect yourself, never to hurt. You understand?”

She nodded, wiping her tears, already feeling safer in his arms.

But kids will be kids, and every time you go against what your father taught you, there are always consequences. Now, she is going back to France to face the ghosts; she had tried to outrun them, but this time she couldn’t escape, because ghosts always follow you, and in Marseille, hers were waiting.