The house had never been this quiet. Paul stood at the entrance, staring into the living room. Nothing had changed.
That was the worst part.
The small toys were still scattered across the floor. A tiny pair of shoes sat beside the couch. A blanket was folded over the armrest, exactly where Veronica had left it days ago.
Everything looked normal. Except there was no Liora. Paul stepped inside. Veronica followed behind him and closed the door.
Neither of them spoke. Paul looked toward the hallway. His feet moved before he could think. He walked to Liora's room.
The door was slightly open. He pushed it. The small bed was still there. The little wooden bird sat on the table beside it. Paul stared at it for several seconds.
Then he picked it up. His thumb pressed the button. A tiny mechanical sound filled the room.
Silence.
Paul pressed it again.
Nothing.
He pressed it a third time.
Still nothing. He knew there would be nothing. But some part of him was still waiting. Waiting for the laugh. Waiting for little footsteps. Waiting for a voice calling for him.
Nothing came.
Paul lowered the toy. His breathing became heavier.
- She's not coming back.
Veronica stood in the doorway. She had been looking at him. Now she looked away.
- No.
Paul sat on the edge of the bed. He stared at the empty space beside him.
- It doesn't feel real.
Veronica entered the room slowly.
- I know.
- No.
Paul shook his head.
- You don't understand.
Veronica stopped. Paul looked at her. His eyes were red, but there were no tears anymore.
- I keep thinking we're going to wake up tomorrow.
He looked around the room.
- She's going to run in here. She's going to climb onto the bed. She's going to start crying because I won't give her something she wants.
His voice cracked.
- And I'll complain about it.
Veronica swallowed.
- Paul...
- I keep waiting for it.
He looked down at the wooden bird in his hands.
- I keep waiting for her.
Veronica sat beside him. For a while, neither moved. She reached toward the little blanket on the bed and touched it. Her fingers trembled.
- I washed this two days before...
She stopped. Paul looked at her. Veronica pulled the blanket closer.
- She wouldn't sleep without it.
Paul closed his eyes. He remembered. He remembered how many nights he had stood beside that bed. How many times he had complained that she was refusing to sleep. How many times Veronica had told him to stop checking on her every five minutes.
The memories were everywhere.
Every corner of the house carried one. And there was nowhere left to run from them. Paul looked toward the doorway.
- If we stayed...
Veronica didn't answer. Paul's voice became quieter.
- If we had stayed, she'd still be here.
Veronica stared at the floor. She knew. There was no argument against it.
- Yes.
Paul looked at her. That single word hurt more than anything else.
- We left her.
Veronica's eyes filled with tears.
- We thought we'd come back.
- But we didn't.
- We thought we'd come back, Paul.
- But we didn't.
His voice rose. Veronica flinched. Paul stood.
- We left her.
- I know!
Veronica stood too. For the first time since they had entered the house, her voice broke.
- I know!
Paul stared at her. Veronica wiped her face.
- You think I don't know?
- I didn't say that.
- You don't have to.
She pointed toward the room.
- I wake up every morning knowing she's not there.
Her voice trembled.
- I walk past this room knowing she's not going to come running out of it. I see her clothes. I see her toys. I hear her voice in my head.
She pressed a hand against her chest.
- And every time I remember that we left.
Paul looked away.
- We had a choice.
- Yes.
- We chose duty.
- Yes.
- We chose to leave her.
Veronica's expression tightened.
- We thought the situation was urgent.
- Maybe it was.
- We thought we'd be gone for a few hours.
- I know.
- Then why are you saying it like we wanted this?
Paul turned toward her.
- Because I don't know what else to say!
The room went silent. Paul's fists tightened.
- I was supposed to protect her.
Veronica stared at him.
- Paul...
- That's what I do.
His voice became quieter.
- That's what I've always done.
He looked down at his hands.
- I can move faster than anyone. I can fight things that would kill normal people. I've spent my entire life believing that if something happens, I can stop it.
He laughed bitterly.
- And when it actually mattered...
He couldn't finish. Veronica stepped closer.
- You couldn't have known.
- I should have stayed.
- So should I.
Paul looked at her. Neither spoke. Veronica continued.
- I should have stayed too.
Paul's expression changed.
- Then why didn't you?
She stared at him.
- Why didn't you then?
The words came out before she could stop them.
Silence.
Veronica immediately looked away.
- I didn't mean…
- No.
Paul nodded slowly.
- You did.
- Paul, I was angry. I didn't mean it like that.
- But you said it.
- Because I'm hurting!
- So am I!
His voice echoed through the room. Veronica's eyes filled again.
- Do you think I don't know that?
Paul turned away.
- You wanted us to go.
- So did you.
- You told me we couldn't ignore the assignment.
- And you agreed!
Paul stopped. That was the problem. She was right.
There was no villain. No single decision they could point to. No person they could blame and walk away from. They had both made the choice.
Together.
Paul lowered his head.
- We both left her.
Veronica's voice softened.
- Yes.
- We thought we'd come back.
- Yes.
- And she waited.
Veronica closed her eyes. Paul's breathing became uneven.
- She waited for us.
Veronica covered her mouth. A sob escaped before she could stop it. Paul looked at her.
For a moment, all the anger disappeared. She wasn't his enemy. She was the only other person in the universe who knew exactly what this felt like.
She had lost the same child. The same little girl. The same future. Paul stepped toward her. But stopped.
He wanted to hold her. He wanted her to hold him. Instead, neither moved.
- I don't know how to do this.
Veronica wiped her tears.
- Neither do I.
Paul looked around the room.
- Every time I look at you, I remember that day.
Veronica's face fell. Paul immediately regretted saying it. But he continued.
- And every time I look at this room, I remember you.
He looked at her.
- I don't know how to separate any of it anymore.
Veronica's lips trembled.
- You think I can?
Paul said nothing.
- I see you and I remember her too.
She looked toward the bed.
- I remember you holding her.
A small smile appeared through her tears.
- You used to hold her like she was made of glass.
Paul almost smiled. Almost.
- She wasn't.
- I know.
Veronica looked at him.
- You just thought she was.
Paul looked down.
- Maybe I should have been more careful.
- Paul...
- Maybe if I had stayed….
- Stop.
Paul looked up. Veronica shook her head.
- Don't do that to yourself.
- Why?
- Because I already do it enough.
That silenced him. Veronica took a breath.
- I keep thinking about every moment. Every decision. Every second we were away.
She looked at him.
- But if we spend the rest of our lives trying to find the exact moment where we could have changed it, she's still gone.
Paul's eyes lowered.
- I know.
- And I don't know how to forgive myself.
Her voice broke.
- I don't know if I ever will.
Paul looked at her for a long time. Then he whispered,
- I don't know how to forgive you either.
Veronica froze. Paul immediately shook his head.
- Not because you did something.
He struggled to find the words.
- I just...
He looked at the floor.
- You're the person I love most in this world.
His voice cracked.
- And right now, I don't know how to look at you without remembering the worst thing that ever happened to us.
Veronica's tears fell silently.
- I understand.
Paul looked toward the door. He walked past her. Veronica turned.
- Where are you going?
Paul stopped. He didn't turn around.
- I don't know.
- Paul...
He stood there for a few seconds. Then he opened the door. Veronica watched him. She wanted to stop him.
She wanted to tell him not to leave.
But she couldn't.
Because some part of her understood. He needed somewhere to go. Somewhere that wasn't this house. Somewhere that wasn't this room.
Somewhere that wasn't her.
Paul stepped outside. The door closed behind him. Veronica remained still. The house was silent again.
She slowly returned to Liora's room. She sat on the floor beside the bed and pulled the little blanket against her chest. The wooden bird remained on the table. She reached for it. Her thumb pressed the button.
Nothing.
Veronica closed her eyes. For the first time since they had returned, she allowed herself to cry without trying to stop.
Outside, Paul walked without knowing where he was going. Inside, Veronica held the blanket that no longer needed to be washed. And between them was a house filled with everything they had loved. Everything except the one person they had loved most.
Their daughter.
And neither of them knew how to live in that silence.
-To be continued