Becoming Strangers Again by Lily

LILY

Finally, the weekend had arrived, and I was incredibly relieved and eager to head to New York to join Ryan. The thought of him grieving all alone had been weighing on me. I hated that he had to endure such a difficult time by himself.

Noah suddenly looked up from his sketchbook, which had absorbed his complete attention since the jet took off. His little brow was furrowed in concentration as he asked, "Are we going to see Grandma and Grandpa?"

I sighed softly, prepared for the inevitable follow-up question. "You'll be seeing Grandma, but not Grandpa," I replied, trying to keep my voice calm.

His gaze shifted back to his drawing, brows knitted in thought as he continued to focus on fixing what seemed to be a mistake in his sketch. "What about Grandpa?" he asked, his tone casual but curious.

I paused, glancing over at Liam and Ethan. They had suddenly become attentive. Liam's face showed visible worry, and his eyes darted around nervously, clearly sensing that something had happened. "Grandpa..." I started, taking a deep breath as I sought the right words to convey the difficult truth. "Grandpa was called up to heaven. He received a call, and he went to answer it."

Yes, I know it sounds ridiculous.

"Like Fryer?" Ethan asked, his voice small and uncertain.

Fryer was a dog we had gotten for Ethan on his last birthday, but tragically, he had died before reaching six months. We suspected he had been bitten by something during a hike, and we hadn't realized how serious it was until it was too late. I nodded. "Yes, like Fryer."

Ethan's face fell, and his eyes began to water as he looked up at me. "So we won't be seeing Grandpa again?" he asked, his voice quivering.

I reached out and pulled him into my arms, holding him close to my chest. "You're going to see him one last time," I said softly, trying to offer some comfort, "but he won't be able to talk to you."

Noah, who had been silently absorbing the news, dropped his drawing book and came into my embrace as well. I could feel their grief, and I let them cry against my chest, hoping my presence would offer them some comfort.

Meanwhile, Liam had retreated to the window seat, his eyes fixed on the view outside. He plugged in his headset and covered his ears with music, perhaps trying to block out his emotions.

Sometimes I think I should have named him after Ryan; it seems fitting given how much

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manor. Sarah was home, but Ryan had left to take care of some affairs related to

she whisked them away to her room, probably wanting to find comfort in their company while she dealt with her own grief. I decided to let them be; it seemed like a good way for

eat something to take with my medication, but I'm not particularly hungry

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there was a small gap through which I could see that the world outside had turned pitch black. I fumbled around on the mattress, reaching

hand. I shifted my gaze from him to the phone,m. "What are you doing with my phone?" I asked, my voice still groggy from

of concern and a touch of apology in his eyes. "Your phone kept ringing incessantly," he said, his tone gentle. "I didn't want to disturb

movement painful. The headache, which I had hoped would be alleviated by the rest, was still very much present. "Who kept calling?" I asked as I rubbed my temples in an effort to ease the pounding pain. "Dr. Amell," Ryan responded as he walked over

him a glare. "Maybe if you had bothered to answer my calls or return them, you would

expression softening as he reached for my hand. He sighed deeply, clearly feeling guilty. "I sincerely apologize for not reaching out," he said earnestly. He lifted my hand to his lips and placed

the stress in his eyes, but it didn't entirely soothe my irritation. I

my free hand. "I understand, that things are hectic," I said softly. "All Lasked was that you at least call me back or drop a text. It wouldn't have taken

at least sent a text," he admitted, his shoulders slumping with defeat. "Whenever finished work, it was always really late. The few times I tried calling at that hour, you didn't answer, so

fine," I said gently. Leaning in, I pressed a kiss

nose in the crook of my neck. "It feels so surreal to know he won't be here

back, wishing I could somehow alleviate his pain. "I wish there was something more I

enough," he said, pressing a tender kiss to my neck pulse before pulling back slightly. "I'm just not sure how to break

mentioned him on our way here, so I told the boys that he's no longer

sadly. "Thank you," he

chimed, drawing our attention. The text was from

with Dr. Amell," he grumbled. "Why is