PRESENT
Stella opened her eyes slowly, her surroundings coming into focus. She was back in her apartment, the familiar dim light of the room casting soft shadows on the walls. Her body felt heavy, her mind clouded with remnants of her dreams. How long have I been asleep? she wondered, turning her head to look at the clock on the nightstand. It read 9 p.m.
With a sigh, she pushed herself up from the bed, her limbs still sluggish from sleep. The apartment was quiet, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. She padded across the room, her bare feet cool against the wooden floor, and made her way to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, she grabbed some eggs and quickly prepared scrambled eggs, the repetitive motions grounding her scattered thoughts.
After finishing her simple meal, she felt an inexplicable pull toward the swimming pool. The water had always been her solace, a place where she could leave the chaos of her life behind. Stripping off her clothes, she stood at the edge of the pool for a moment, letting the cool air graze her skin before diving in.
The water enveloped her, soothing her like a gentle embrace. She swam laps, her strokes rhythmic and precise, the silence beneath the surface calming her restless mind. For a while, nothing else existed—just the water and her.
Eventually, she paused, floating on her back as she stared up at the ceiling. The sound of water lapping against the edges of the pool filled her ears. She remembered her phone and swam back to the edge, hoisting herself out to retrieve it. Sitting on the pool's edge, her damp hair clinging to her face, she dialed Mallory's number.
The call connected on the first ring.
"Are you coming tomorrow?" Mallory's voice was clear, cutting through the stillness of the room.
"I am," Stella said, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions beneath the surface. "I'll meet you at the café at 11 a.m., and then we'll leave."
"Okay, bye," Mallory said simply before the line went dead.
Stella set the phone aside and looked back at the shimmering water. She exhaled, a long, slow breath that felt like it carried the weight of the years she'd endured. She wasn't the carefree eighteen-year-old girl she had been. That part of her life felt like it belonged to someone else entirely. Now, she was twenty-seven—a mature, thoughtful woman forged by pain and resilience. A widow.
The word lingered in her mind, sharp and unyielding. It was a title she never thought she'd carry, but here she was. The memory of Simon flashed briefly in her mind, his smile, his presence. She quickly shook it away. There was no use dwelling on what couldn't be changed.
Pulling herself out of the pool, she grabbed a towel and dried off, her movements slow and methodical. She slipped into her night clothes, the soft fabric a small comfort against her skin.
The night stretched on, but Stella wasn't ready to sleep again. Instead, she settled onto the couch, a book in hand. As the minutes turned into hours, she lost herself in its pages, her mind momentarily escaping into another world. The faint light of dawn began to creep through the windows before she even realized how much time had passed.
Closing the book, she let out a soft sigh. The day ahead would bring its own challenges, but for now, she embraced the stillness of the moment.
The next morning, Stella indulged in a long, hot bath, letting the warmth ease her muscles and clear her mind. She dressed in a plain black buttoned-up frock that flowed gracefully to her feet. The dress, simple yet elegant, had a matching black belt that cinched at her slim waist, emphasizing her figure. It also featured pockets, a detail Stella appreciated. Rolling her full sleeves to three-quarters and adjusting the crisp collar, she took a final glance in the mirror, her expression calm but purposeful.
Grabbing her bag and phone, she headed out to the cafe where she and Mallory had planned to meet.
Upon entering, the subtle aroma of freshly brewed coffee welcomed her. The cafe, cozy and buzzing with soft chatter, seemed to brighten as Stella walked in. She chose a table near the window, her movements drawing discreet attention. One of the waitresses couldn't help but admire Stella's beauty, particularly when she bent down to pick up her phone, which had slipped from her grasp. Her long, golden hair fell like a shimmering curtain, catching the light and the eyes of those nearby.
With effortless grace, Stella straightened and placed her order for coffee. She leaned back in her chair, her gaze occasionally drifting out the window as she waited for Mallory.
The soft chime of the door opening pulled Stella's attention, and she saw Mallory stride in. True to her signature style, Mallory was dressed in a black oversized suit, the loose fit contrasting sharply with her confident presence. She scanned the room, spotted Stella, and made her way to the table.
"Morning," Mallory greeted, sliding into the chair across from Stella.
"Morning," Stella replied with a faint smile.
The two sat quietly for a moment, sipping their coffees. The warmth of the drink seemed to ease the tension lingering from the previous day's revelations, though the weight of their plans was ever-present in the back of their minds. After they drank, they made their way to the car.
"You drive," Mallory said, sliding into the passenger seat. She adjusted her seatbelt as Stella took the wheel, starting the car without a word. The air was quiet between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable—more reflective, as if both were lost in their own thoughts.
After a drive of an hour and a half through winding roads and fading daylight, they arrived at the graveyard. The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink.
"Let's do the usual routine," Stella said, her voice steady. She pulled a coin from her pocket, flipping it into the air. It landed on heads.
"I'll go first," she declared, stepping out of the car with a bouquet of fresh flowers in hand. The soft crunch of gravel under her feet was the only sound as she made her way through the rows of weathered headstones.
Finally, she stopped in front of a familiar grave. The name etched into the stone read: Elizabeth Adams—their beloved grandmother.
Stella knelt down, gently placing the bouquet on the grave. Her fingers lightly brushed the cool stone as she smiled softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
"How are you, Gigi?" she began, her tone tender. "I miss you a lot. Things haven't been the same without you." She chuckled softly, a bittersweet sound. "I finally overcame my depression, you know. It wasn't easy, but I did it. You would've been proud of me."
She paused, glancing at the sky for a moment before continuing. "It would've been a lot better if you were here to guide us, though. As I promised, I'm taking care of Mal. She's... well, she's still Mallory," she said with a small laugh.
"I got a new job, Gigi," she added, her smile growing a little wider. "Just this morning. I haven't told anyone yet—you're the first to know. I hope you're enjoying heaven. I love you."
Stella stood, brushing the dust from her knees, and took a deep breath. She turned back toward the car, passing Mallory on her way. "Your turn," she said with a small nod.
Mallory walked over, her movements deliberate and unhurried. Lowering herself to her knees, she looked at the grave, her expression softer than usual.
"Hey, Grams," Mallory began, her voice quieter than usual. "I hope you're doing great up there. I'm doing fine too, you know. Well, except for the fact that Stella treats me like a child these days," she said, rolling her eyes. "But that's just her, right?"
She ran her fingers through her hair, glancing around the quiet graveyard. "I don't really have much else to say, but... I miss you. I love you, Grams. Always."
Mallory stood, her usual stoicism breaking for just a moment as she placed her bouquet on the grave.
Stella rejoined her moments later, carrying a small flask. The two sisters sat beside the grave, sharing a quiet moment as they drank a sip of Genevieve's favorite drink—a tradition they'd kept alive since her passing.
They offered a final prayer, standing side by side in the fading light, before making their way back to the car.
This time, Mallory slid into the driver's seat, glancing at Stella as she adjusted the mirrors. "Your turn to relax," she said, a faint smile playing on her lips.
The drive back was peaceful until their stomachs reminded them of the hour. "Let's stop for dinner," Stella suggested, pointing to a roadside diner with neon lights flickering in the darkness.
It was already 7 p.m., and the day had been long. They pulled into the diner.