Chapter 2: The Empty Spaces We Share
Weeks passed.
Stella found herself returning to Greenwich more often than she expected.
At first, it was practical.
She helped Nathaniel organize old financial records.
She corrected bookkeeping mistakes his exhausted assistant had missed.
She taught Lily how to make paper flowers from bakery receipts.
Then practical became familiar.
Lily began saving Stella a seat at dinner.
Nathaniel started making coffee before she arrived.
The house slowly changed.
Crayons multiplied on the kitchen counter.
Laughter echoed through hallways that had once held only silence.
One rainy afternoon, Stella found Nathaniel standing alone in the library.
He was staring at a photograph.
A beautiful woman smiled back from the frame.
Lily's mother.
"My wife, Claire," he said.
"You still talk to her?"
"Sometimes."
Stella nodded.
"I still talk to my father."
Nathaniel gave a small smile.
"Do they answer?"
"No."
"Good," he said. "I was beginning to worry about myself."
Stella laughed.
Then grew serious.
"Do you ever stop missing them?"
Nathaniel considered the question.
"No," he answered honestly.
"I think we just learn to carry the missing differently."
His words settled deep inside her.
That evening, Lily climbed onto Stella's lap while watching cartoons.
"Can I ask you something?" Lily whispered.
"Of course."
"If somebody dies, can you still love them?"
Stella kissed the top of her head.
"I think love is the part that doesn't die."
Lily thought carefully.
"Then maybe hearts are bigger than people think."
Nathaniel looked up from the kitchen doorway.
His eyes met Stella's.
May you like
Neither of them spoke.
But for the first time, hope entered the room without asking permission.
