His biggest regret

CHAPTER 4

Lizzy stood in the middle of the bedroom, surrounded by half-filled boxes and open suitcases.

The house was quiet.

Not because no one lived there anymore, but because the laughter that had once breathed life into every corner had vanished forever.

She tightened her grip on the folded sweater in her hands before placing it neatly inside the suitcase. It was one of the few things she had decided to take.

Ethan had insisted she didn't need to bring anything.

"Leave it all behind, Lizzy," he'd told her gently over the phone the previous evening. "When you get here, we'll buy whatever you need. Clothes, furniture... anything. Just come."

She had appreciated the kindness, more than she could ever put into words.

But she couldn't do that.

Some things couldn't be replaced with a shopping trip.

Some things carried memories.

She looked around the room, her gaze lingering on the oak wardrobe Nick had built for her shortly after they got married. Back then, he had spent an entire weekend assembling it, refusing to let anyone help because he wanted it to be "perfect for his girls."

The memory made her chest tighten.

How strange...

The same man who had once kissed her forehead every morning had become the reason she no longer recognized herself.

With a shaky breath, she forced the thought away.

She crossed to the dresser and opened the top drawer.

Inside lay a small collection of Lou's belongings she had carefully gathered after the funeral.

Tiny socks.

A pink hairbrush with strands of soft curls still caught between its bristles.

A faded coloring book with clumsy scribbles that Lou had proudly called butterflies.

Lizzy's fingers trembled as she picked up the little brush.

A tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it.

"My sweet girl..." she whispered, brushing her thumb over the handle.

"I wish I could brush your hair just one more time."

The silence answered her.

She swallowed hard and carefully wrapped every one of Lou's belongings in a soft blanket before placing them inside a separate box marked Precious.

Nothing in that box would ever be thrown away.

Nothing.

She moved through the house slowly, choosing only what truly mattered.

Her mother's necklace.

The photo albums from her childhood.

Lou's favorite teddy bear.

The little nightlight that projected stars across the ceiling every night before bedtime.

She left behind expensive furniture, decorative pieces, and kitchen appliances.

Those were just things.

But memories...

Those were priceless.

As she stepped into the living room, her eyes landed on the family portrait hanging above the fireplace.

She froze.

It had been taken on Lou's third birthday.

Nick stood behind her with his arms wrapped around her waist while Lou sat happily between them, frosting smeared across her tiny cheeks.

To anyone else, it looked like the portrait of a perfect family.

Lizzy walked toward it.

For several seconds, she simply stared.

She reached up and gently lifted the frame from the wall.

Her fingertips traced Lou's smiling face.

"You were so happy that day," she whispered.

"You kept trying to blow out the candles before we even sang."

A small laugh escaped her lips.

It lasted only a second before dissolving into tears.

Carefully, she removed the photograph from its frame.

The frame itself meant nothing.

The picture meant everything.

She slipped it safely into a folder before setting the empty frame on the floor.A knock sounded at the front door.

Lizzy wiped her tears before opening it.

Daniel her favourite cousin, stood on the porch, his expression soft with concern.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

Lizzy nodded faintly. "Almost."

His eyes drifted to the half-packed boxes behind her. "Are you sure about this?"

"I can't stay here anymore," she said quietly. "Every room reminds me of... everything."

Daniel sighed. "I understand."

"Someone has arranged a place for me to stay for a while," she added. "I just need some time away from all this."

Daniel didn't press for details. If having somewhere safe would help her heal, that was all that mattered to him.

"As long as you're not alone," he said gently.

Daniel gently took the last suitcase from her hand and placed it in the trunk of his car.

Neither of them spoke.

There was nothing left to say.

Lizzy stood on the driveway for one final moment, her eyes fixed on the cream-colored house that had once been her greatest source of happiness. The roses she had planted along the walkway were still blooming, their soft pink petals swaying gently in the afternoon breeze as though nothing had changed.

How cruel.

The world kept moving while hers had come to a complete stop.

She slowly reached into her coat pocket, her fingers wrapping around the tiny pink hair clip that had belonged to Lou. She carried it everywhere now. It was the only thing she needed to remind herself that her little girl had once existed—that her laughter had once filled these walls.

Daniel opened the passenger door.

"Lizzy..."

She blinked away the tears threatening to fall and gave the house one last lingering look.

"Goodbye," she whispered so softly that even the wind almost stole the word.

Then she climbed into the car.

The engine came to life, breaking the silence that had settled over the neighborhood.

As the car rolled away from the driveway, Lizzy couldn't stop herself from looking through the window.

The house grew smaller with every passing second.

The white curtains in Lou's bedroom window fluttered gently.

For one heartbreaking moment, Lizzy could almost imagine seeing a tiny face peeking through the glass, waving excitedly and calling for her.

"Mummy!"

Her breath caught painfully in her throat.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

When she opened them again, the window was empty.

Just another cruel trick her grieving heart had played on her.

Daniel noticed the tears silently slipping down her cheeks, but he kept both hands on the steering wheel.

He didn't offer comforting words.

He didn't tell her everything would be okay.

Because they both knew it wouldn't.

Some wounds didn't heal overnight.

Some losses stayed with you forever.

The only sounds inside the car were the quiet hum of the engine and the occasional sniffle Lizzy tried desperately to hide.

They drove through familiar streets.

The bakery where Nick used to stop every Saturday morning to buy Lou chocolate croissants.

The small park where Lou had spent hours chasing pigeons while laughing so hard she'd fall onto the grass.

The toy store where she'd once thrown a tiny tantrum because she wanted a giant stuffed elephant almost as big as she was.

Every street held another memory.

Every building reminded Lizzy of a life that no longer existed.

Without realizing it, she rested her forehead against the cool glass of the window.

Outside, people carried on with their ordinary lives.

Children laughed.

Couples held hands.

Friends chatted as they crossed the street.

No one knew that a mother was quietly mourning the child she could never hold again.

No one knew that the woman sitting inside the black sedan had lost everything in less than forty-eight hours.

Life was strangely unfair.

After nearly twenty minutes, Daniel finally spoke.

"Did you... tell whoever you're staying with that we're on our way?"

Lizzy nodded without looking away from the window.

"Yes."

"They'll take good care of you?"

"I think so."

That was all she said.

Daniel glanced at her briefly before returning his attention to the road.

He wanted to ask more questions.

Who was this person?

How did they know Lizzy?

Why had they suddenly offered her a place to stay?

But he stopped himself.

If Lizzy wanted him to know, she would tell him.

For now, all that mattered was getting her somewhere she could breathe again.

The city slowly disappeared behind them.

The roads became quieter, lined with towering trees whose branches stretched over the asphalt like a protective canopy.

Lizzy finally sat up and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.

She looked down at the small box resting on her lap.

Inside were Lou's teddy bear, her favorite bedtime storybook, the little star-shaped nightlight she refused to sleep without, and a family photograph with Nick carefully cut away, leaving only Lizzy and Lou smiling together.

Lizzy gently opened the box and picked up the teddy bear.

Its soft fur still carried the faint scent of the lavender detergent she always used when washing Lou's clothes.

She hugged it tightly against her chest.

"I'll never leave you behind," she whispered.

Daniel heard her but pretended he hadn't.

Some conversations were meant to stay between a mother and her child... even after death.

The rest of the journey passed in silence.

Neither of them noticed when the city skyline faded completely behind them.

Neither of them realized that with every mile they traveled, Lizzy was leaving behind the ruins of her old life...

unknowingly driving toward a future that would change everything.