Page 75 of The Weight of Her Silence
“I want to tell you everything I didn’t get to say. And maybe I’m saying it now because I was always better at putting love into moments… not words. But you deserve the words too.”
Ava leaned forward, eyes locked on the screen.
“You are the best part of me, Ava. You’re fierce and kind, stubborn and good. I know I wasn’t always present the way I wanted to be. I know the world got complicated, and you had to grow up too fast. I wish I could’ve shielded you from more. From… from everything.”
Lila’s eyes flickered—briefly, to something unsaid.
“But I want you to know something that matters more than anything else. You were never the reason for any of it. None of what happened between your father and me was your fault. You were always our light.”
Ava let her tears fall freely now.
“And I need you to live, Ava. Not just survive. Live. Laugh. Fall in love with someone who sees you clearly. Don’t carry my pain as your own—it was never meant to be your burden.”
Lila smiled, and it broke Ava all over again.
“I’ll always be proud of you. I’ll always be with you.”
The screen faded.
Ava sat still, her chest shaking as Caleb silently stood and joined her on the floor, sitting beside her.
He didn’t need to ask if she was okay.
She clicked the second file.
Caleb’s name appeared. Then Lila’s face again.
“Hey there, my little man,” she whispered. “Or… maybe not so little anymore.”
Caleb laughed softly under his breath, shoulders tense.
“I hope you still draw comics. I hope you still ask too many questions at the worst times. I hope you’ve found a way to keep your softness, because it’s your superpower, Caleb. Don’t let anyone tell you it makes you weak.”
She paused, voice tightening.
“Your dad loves you. And I know that might get confusing sometimes. But he does. Just… remember thatwe’re all just people, trying and failing and sometimes breaking each other. But love is still real. You were always loved, okay?”
Caleb wiped at his face, biting his lip.
“And if you ever wonder if I’m proud of you? I am. Always. Forever. Don’t stop being you.”
Her smile at the end was tired, but full of light.
“I’ll see you in every sunset. I’ll be the wind when you laugh too loud. I’ll be around, baby. I promise.”
The video ended.
And for a long while, the siblings sat in the hush that followed.
No words. Just the ache of something beautiful they could never touch again.
But in that stillness, something else bloomed.
Warmth.
Presence.
A kind of goodbye that wasn’t final—just folded into the fabric of their days now.
