Thank you for the reviews! I have so many ideas and so little time because I'm currently struggling with my thesis. That being said, enjoy this little chapter that finally gives Cal peace of mind.
Guilt was probably one of the core emotions he felt first. Not an ideal situation for a little kid, but you don't get to choose the surroundings you grow up in. It clings to you, buried deep underneath the soul and projecting onto everything else. "It wasn't your fault", so who's to blame? A lame excuse, but then someone so serene and sincere says it, and you want to believe them with a certain urgency. You just have to.
Cal and Gillian stepped off the plane at Heathrow airport, their breath misting in the chilly London air. She shivered, pulling her jacket tighter around her body. Cal noticed that and took off his scarf, wrapping it around her.
"Thanks," she said, smiling up at him.
"Anytime," he replied, and they set off towards the car rental booth. Once they had secured their vehicle, they began the long drive out to the countryside.
Seeing the winding roads of London for the first time in a long while, Cal went down memory lane. He spent his childhood in it. The city had changed so much since he had left, and yet it still held a special place in his heart, somewhat maudlin.
"Sure you're up for this?"
"Of course, Cal, I want to be here for you."
Gillian gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, silently offering her support.
A gloomy old cemetery, a sprawling green space dotted with gravestones and memorials, greeted them tranquilly. Cal led the way, his pace quickening as they approached his mother's resting place. He meant to visit her, he really did, but it was always so... complex? Before he moved to the States and settled there, he vowed to himself to come here at least once a year, but it never happened. To be completely honest, one glance at a graveyard made him sick to his stomach. Dreadful reminder that there would never be a second chance, leaving him hopelessly observing the consequences. Every now and then it seemed easier to not acknowledge it happened, to pretend he moved away, and they simply lost contact. Out of their characters, yes, but it didn't numb him with pain, twisting his insides over and over again. The simple headstone, etched with his mother's name and the dates of her birth and death, hit Cal hard. He stood there for a moment, staring at it, before he finally spoke.
"I wish I could have saved you, mum…I wish I could have helped you."
Gillian stepped up beside him, her own eyes filled with tears. "You did everything you could, Cal," she said, her voice gentle. "You were a good son."
"I miss her. Every day."
"I know you do," Gillian said softly. "But she would be proud of you, Cal. Look at everything you've accomplished."
Cal smiled weakly, his gaze still fixed on the grave.
"I hope so."
They stood there in silence for a few more moments before Cal turned to Gillian.
"Thank you for coming with me, love."
"I wouldn't have missed it for the world."
Then, without warning, he leaned in and kissed her. It was a soft, gentle kiss, but it spoke volumes. Gillian knew that Cal had finally let her in, that he had opened up his heart to her fully. As they turned to leave, Cal paused for a moment, taking one last look at his mother's grave. And then, with Gillian by his side, he walked away, feeling a sense of closure that he had never felt before.