Chapter 215 The Silence

Chapter 215: Chapter 215 The Silence

Talia’s POV

The tears kept falling, and I could not seem to stop them.

They came in waves, one after another, like the tide pulling at the shore. I had been holding them back for so long, pushing them down and pretending they were not there. But now, they were still flowing free.

I sat on the edge of the bed, with my hands clasped in my lap, and I let them fall. They streaked down my cheeks and dropped onto my hands, warm and salty. I did not try to wipe them away.

My hands lay limp in my lap, and I could not find the energy to lift them. The weight of everything I had been carrying was too heavy, and I was too tired to fight it anymore.

I did not have the strength.

My body felt hollowed out, like everything inside me had been scooped away and replaced with nothing but this vast, aching emptiness that seemed to stretch from my chest all the way to my fingertips, and I could not remember ever feeling so completely and utterly drained, not even in the darkest days of Cresswood.

I had remembered all the words grandfather Aldric had told me about my mother so far, and I had felt her presence. And now, the grief I had been holding in for so long was finally spilling out.

The door opened, and I looked up.

I had not heard his footsteps in the hallway, and I had not heard the sound of the door turning. He was just there, standing in the frame, with his presence filling the room like a quiet anchor.

Kaelen stood in the doorway, with his gray eyes soft and steady.

He looked at me, and I could see the concern flickering behind his eyes. He did not rush in, and he did not demand answers. He just stood there, giving me space to breathe.

He stopped when he saw me, and his face softened. He did not speak, and he did not ask what happened, or why I was crying.

He just walked to the bed and sat beside me.

I felt the bed dip under his weight, and I felt the warmth of his presence beside me. He was close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body, but he did not crowd me.

He did not touch me at first. He just sat there, with his presence warm and steady beside me. He waited, letting me cry, and letting me feel my emotions.

The silence stretched between us, but it was not uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that said everything words could not. He was there, and that was all I needed.

I wanted to speak. I wanted to tell him about the room, about the lavender scent, and about the way I had felt like my mother was right there beside me. But the words would not come.

Every time I opened my mouth, my throat would close up and all that came out was a ragged breath that sounded more like a sob than a word.

Because how could I possibly explain what it had felt like to lie on that bed, surrounded by the ghost of a woman I had not seen in fifteen years, and know that she had once touched those same blankets and breathed that same air?

They were trapped in my throat, tangled up with all the grief, and hope, and fear that I could not untangle. So I let them stay there, and I let myself just be.

I just sat there, and I let myself cry.

After a long moment, he reached over and took my hand. His fingers were warm, and they wrapped around mine gently, like he was holding something fragile.

I looked at him, and I tried to smile.

I could feel my lips twitch, but the effort was too much. My face felt heavy, and my heart felt heavier. So I let the smile fade, and I let him see the truth of how I was feeling.

But the smile did not reach my eyes.

He did not say anything. He just squeezed my hand and stayed with me.

His thumb traced small circles on the back of my hand, and the gentle motion was soothing. It was a small thing, but it reminded me that I was not alone.

We sat there for hours. The fire crackled in the hearth, and the shadows danced on the walls.

I watched the flames flicker and dance, and I listened to the soft crackling sound. It was a familiar comfort, and it helped quiet the chaos in my mind.

The sun set, and the room grew dark. Neither of us moved, and neither of us spoke.

The silence was heavy, but it was not a burden. It was like a blanket, wrapping around us, and holding us together in the stillness.

I did not know how long we sat there. The minutes blurred together, and time lost all meaning. All I knew was that Kaelen was beside me, and that was enough.

I could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing, and I could feel the warmth of his hand in mine. He was my anchor, and I clung to him without words.

When the first light of morning filtered through the window, I leaned my head on his shoulder, and he pressed his lips against my forehead.

I felt the softness of his lips on my skin, and I closed my eyes. I let myself sink in to the moment, in to the warmth of his love, and in to the safety of his arms.

We stayed like that until the sun rose, of which I watched the sunrise through the window.

The sky was painted in shades of pink and gold, and the light spilled across the room like a promise. It was beautiful, and it reminded me that there was still hope.

I watched the colors shift and deepen, from soft rose to blazing amber to the palest blue at the edges of the horizon, and I thought about how many sunrises my mother had watched from her prison, how many mornings she had woken up and wondered if this would be the day someone finally came for her.

And I made a silent vow to the light that, she would not have to watch another one alone.

My head was still resting on Kaelen’s shoulder, and for a moment, I felt very tired, and I was sad, as I remembered the previous days events.

My body was heavy with exhaustion, and my heart was heavy with grief. But even in the midst of all that, I could feel a glimmer of something else, something that felt like peace.

But I was not alone, I had never been alone.

No matter how dark the night had been, the sun had always risen. And no matter how heavy my heart felt, Kaelen had always been there. I had never been alone, and I never would be.