Chapter 152 Dealing With The Emptiness

Chapter 152 Dealing With The Emptiness
E L E A N O R

Two weeks.

I hugged myself tightly, letting out a quiet sniffle before forcing my body to move. I slipped on my black robe, the fabric feeling heavy and meaningless against my skin. It all felt mechanical now—waking, breathing, moving through a life that no longer felt like living. Day after day, we had searched the edge of that cliff, scoured the riverbanks, followed every lead. And day after day, I felt myself slipping further from reality.

I had to force myself to eat. Force myself to sleep. Force myself to keep going. It was so much worse than losing Tobias. This pain was deeper, heavier, like a part of my soul had been carved out and thrown into that river with him.

I didn’t want to see anyone. I didn’t want to speak. I kept myself locked away in this room, curtains drawn tight, drowning the space in shadows. It felt like a tomb. Empty. Meaningless. Because he wasn’t here.

Maybe if I hadn’t killed Meredith so quickly, I would still have revenge to fuel me. But now, the only things holding me together were my children and the stubborn, unshakable hope that their father was still out there. Even after they held a funeral for him. Even when they urged me to wear black. I refused. I am not a widow. My husband is alive.

After my shower, I managed to pull on a soft pink nightdress and let my hair fall loose over my shoulders. I ran my hands along the cabinet, my fingers tracing the wood where he had once kissed me, flirted with me, smiled at me like I was the only thing that mattered.

The memory hit me like a physical blow. My legs gave out, and I crumpled to the floor, taking the mirror down with me. It crashed beside me, shattering into sharp, glittering pieces. I didn’t even flinch. I just stared, tears streaming down my face for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

The door creaked open. I didn’t look up. Probably another maid bringing a tray of food I wouldn’t eat.

“Oh, Eleanor,” a soft voice whispered. It was William. She set the tray down quickly and rushed into the closet, her steps light but sure.

She helped me up from the floor, her hands gentle but firm, and guided me back to the bed, pulling the covers up around me.

“Perhaps I’m cursed,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“No, you’re not,” she said firmly, taking my hand in hers.

“I can’t…” I swallowed hard, trying to hold back another wave of tears. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep doing this without him.”

She sighed softly, kicked off her shoes, and climbed into bed beside me. I rested my head on her chest, and she wrapped an arm around my waist, drawing slow, calming circles on my back.

“You can do this, Eleanor.”

“Live without him?”

“You lived before you met him.”

“I think there’s a difference between living and being alive,” I said, my voice thick. “Life felt different with him. It doesn’t matter how much I lived before him. The truth is, I only started truly being alive with him. And now he’s gone.”

“Well,” she said, resting her chin on my head and pulling me closer, “when I said you can do this, I meant you can stay strong until he returns.”

I pulled back slightly, eyes wide. “You believe me?”

Everyone else thought I was in denial. They said I was mad, that grief had twisted my mind. They even whispered about how I’d “shown signs” before—at the ball, in my anger. As if my love for him was a symptom rather than something real.

“Yes,” William said, her smile warm and certain. “I do. And I’ll be with you, Eleanor. Every step of the way, until he comes back. Especially with your little dumplings.” She grinned, rubbing my stomach gently.

Just then, a small foot pressed against my belly from the inside. My lips parted in shock as I watched it happen again.

“I think they like you,” I whispered.

“Indeed,” she smiled. “I’m going to stay here a little longer, if that’s alright with you. The chef can’t seem to prepare the pregnancy dishes I asked for.”

“Please stay,” I said, meaning it more than I could express. “Stay as long as you want.”

She had been coming every night since the incident—helping me bathe, preparing my meals, sitting with me in the silence. It was more than friendship. It felt like having a mother again.

“Have you decided on any names yet?” she asked softly.

I shook my head. “No. Not yet. It’s funny—we’ve been so occupied, and now… I can’t bring myself to do it without Perseus here.” I looked at her, my eyes pleading. “Do you think he’ll be back before the babies come?”

“Absolutely,” she said without hesitation.

Then she began sharing the funniest names on her list, and for the first time in what felt like years, I found myself laughing. Really laughing. She fed me bites of food between stories, and slowly, the heavy weight in my chest felt just a little lighter.

We eventually fell asleep side by side, but in the middle of the night, I woke to find she had slipped away. I sat up, leaning against the headboard, and began tracing slow circles over my stomach, just like Perseus used to do.

“He’s always leaving, isn’t he?” I whispered to my children. “It’s not because he’s a deadbeat. I promise. Our world is just… complicated. Do you know what that means?” A soft kick pressed against my palm, and I smiled faintly. “He’ll be back soon. Like he always is. But until then, my loves, we have to be strong. We have a few things to put in place.”