Ashes of Forever

The Last Perfect Day

Love wasn't something I planned for. Not with Theo. Not with anyone.

When I first stepped into his mansion, I was just a maid, an orphan girl with nothing but a suitcase and a dream to survive. Theo was a widower, a man with a broken heart and a toddler who clung to his leg like a shadow. Sophie was the first to welcome me. Her tiny hands reached for mine, and her laugh oh, her laugh was like sunshine breaking through a storm.

Theo was harder to read. He was quiet, reserved, always lost in thought. But over time, I saw the cracks in his armor. The way his gaze softened when he watched Sophie play. The way he'd linger in the kitchen, pretending to check on dinner but really just stealing glances at me.

It was the little moments that brought us together.

Like the night I found him in the study, slumped over his desk, a half-empty glass of whiskey in his hand. Sophie had been crying for hours, refusing to sleep, and I'd gone in to check on him.

"She misses her mother," he said, his voice heavy with guilt. "I don't know how to fix it."

I didn't think. I just knelt beside him, my hand on his arm. "You don't have to fix it," I said softly. "You just have to be there."

He looked at me then, really looked at me. And something shifted between us.

From that night on, we were a team. I'd tuck Sophie to bed, and he'd read her stories. I'd cook dinner, and he'd set the table. Slowly, the mansion began to feel like a home,our home.

The day he proposed, it wasn't with a grand gesture or a flashy ring. It was in the kitchen, with flour on his hands and a nervous smile on his face.

"I don't know how to do this without you," he said, his voice trembling. "You're not just Sophie's mother. You're my everything. Marry me, Zoey."

Our wedding was small, intimate. Just us, Sophie, and a few close friends. When I walked down the aisle, Theo's eyes filled with tears. And when we exchanged vows, his voice was steady, but his hands shook as he slid the ring onto my finger.

"I promise to love you, to protect you, to stand by you no matter what," he said, his gaze locking with mine. "You're my forever, Zoey."

That night, in the glow of candlelight, we made those vows again.

The room was bathed in soft amber light, the flicker of candles casting shadows on the walls. The air was warm, scented with vanilla and the faint trace of Theo's cologne. His hands traced the curve of my face, his touch so gentle it made my breath catch.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

His lips brushed against mine, tentative at first, then deeper, more urgent. I could taste the sweetness of champagne on his tongue, feel the heat of his skin against mine. His fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, as if he could erase the space between us.

And then, as we lay tangled in the silk sheets, his arm draped over my waist, he spoke.

"I couldn't save her," he murmured, his voice breaking. "Shirley. I was supposed to protect her. I promised her I'd take care of Sophie, that I'd be there for her, no matter what. And now... I'm failing her all over again."

His words were raw, filled with a pain I could feel in my own chest. I turned to face him, my hand cupping his cheek.

"You're not failing," I said softly. "You're doing everything you can. And I'm here. We're in this together."

He looked at me, his eyes searching for mine. "I can't lose her, Zoey. I can't lose Imara. She's all I have left of Shirley."

"You won't lose her," I promised, though the words felt heavy on my tongue. "We'll protect her. Together."

He pulled me closer, his lips brushing against my forehead. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you more."

And for a while, it was enough.