CHAPTER 68 — FINDING NEW AIR
The keyboard clacked rapidly beneath Auri's fingers, the glow from her laptop screen reflecting softly in her eyes. For the first time in months, she felt purposeful. Focused. Busy.
She needed this.
Keeping her hands and mind occupied left less room for the dark corners where grief hid, waiting to swallow her whole. So she filled her day with design projects, online client meetings, and endless editing rounds. The maids brought her snacks and tea, though she often forgot to drink them.
"Ma'am Auri," one maid called gently from the doorway, "your lunch is ready."
"Thank you," she said with a soft smile, barely glancing up as she exported a client file. "I'll eat in five minutes."
They knew by now that five minutes meant thirty.
Still, they didn't complain. They only sent Dante updates:
"Sir, Ma'am Auri is working a bit too long today."
"She skipped her morning snack again."
"She seems quieter today."
Dante replied every time—no matter if he was in a boardroom, a private jet, or halfway across the world on a business trip.
"Make sure she rests."
"Tell her I love her."
"Send me a photo of her right now—want to see if she's smiling."
Even through exhaustion and the mountain of paperwork he battled every night, he kept in touch. Voice messages. Video calls. Random texts.
He loved her loudly—even from afar.
But even that wasn't enough to silence Auri's lingering heaviness.
Until one day, a warm surprise arrived.
Isabella's Visit
The front door opened with a familiar softness.
"Auri, sweetheart?" a gentle voice called.
Auri perked up instantly. "Mom?" she said, eyes widening.
Isabella stepped inside the living room with her elegant grace, carrying a basket full of fruit, pastries, and a beautifully wrapped small box.
"Oh, my darling girl," she sighed lovingly, walking up and cupping Auri's cheeks. "You've been working too much. Look at these tired eyes."
Auri blushed, shy as always around Isabella. "I'm okay… I'm just keeping myself busy."
"Busy is fine," Isabella said, kissing her forehead, "but not when you forget to breathe."
She guided Auri toward the couch and sat beside her.
"Dante told me you've been doing better," Isabella said softly. "I'm proud of you."
Auri lowered her head. "I'm trying."
"You're doing more than trying," Isabella corrected. "You're surviving. And that alone is beautiful."
Auri's throat tightened with emotion.
But Isabella chose the perfect moment to shift the mood, clapping her hands lightly.
"Now! I brought pastries from that little French bakery downtown. You're required to eat them with me. Non-negotiable."
Auri giggled quietly. "Okay…"
"And," Isabella added, grinning mischievously, "I brought a tiny gift."
She handed Auri the small box.
"What is it?"
"Open it."
Inside was a delicate gold bracelet, a small charm shaped like a leaf—a symbol of growth, healing, and new beginnings.
Auri's eyes watered immediately.
"I know life has been cruel," Isabella whispered, wrapping an arm around her. "But you are not alone. You have Dante… and you have me. You are family."
Auri leaned into her embrace, her voice small and trembling.
"Thank you… Mom."
Isabella smiled warmly, stroking her hair.
"There you go. That's all I wanted to hear."
They spent the afternoon chatting about anything and everything—food, fashion, funny stories of Dante as a child (including the time he got stuck in a laundry basket), and gossip about Isabella's overdramatic friends.
Auri laughed—really laughed—for the first time in so long.
And Isabella left the mansion feeling relieved.
A Walk for Fresh Air
Later that evening, needing a small break from her laptop, Auri took a walk to the nearby park. The late afternoon sky was a soft pink, the air gentle and cool.
She sat on a bench, closing her eyes, inhaling deeply.
"Um… excuse me," a cheerful voice said suddenly. "Are you sitting alone? Can I—uh—borrow the left side of your bench? My legs are about to give out and I might collapse dramatically."
Auri opened her eyes, startled—and amused.
A woman around her age stood in front of her, hands on her hips, flushed from jogging. She wore bright pink leggings, a messy bun, and the most chaotic energy Auri had ever seen.
"Sure," Auri said with a small smile. "You can sit."
"Thank you! Oh my god, my lungs are on strike. I swear I jog like an 80-year-old turtle."
Auri giggled softly. "You're funny."
The woman dramatically wiped sweat from her forehead.
"I'm Marcela. Professional over-talker, part-time artist, full-time disaster. And you?"
Auri's smile grew. "Auri. Professional homebody lately."
Marcela gasped. "Homebody? Girl, same. I only left the house today because my cousin said my butt was getting too familiar with the couch."
Auri laughed, covering her mouth.
"So!" Marcela said, leaning closer with friendly curiosity. "Why are you out here? You look like you're thinking about forty-three life problems at once."
Auri blinked. "Is it… that obvious?"
Marcela nodded confidently. "Yes. You have the 'my brain won't shut up' face. I have it too."
Auri burst into gentle laughter again.
"Well," Auri said softly, "I've been going through… a lot."
Marcela softened immediately. "Oh… well, I won't pry. But hey—if you ever need someone to vent to or someone to distract you with nonsense, I'm your girl."
Auri warmed instantly at her sincerity.
"I'd like that," she admitted.
Marcela beamed. "Great! Because I can talk for twelve hours straight about snacks, astrology, or weird neighbors. You choose."
"I choose… all of the above," Auri said, laughing again.
Marcela gasped dramatically. "You are perfect. We're friends now. It's official."
Auri felt a flutter of comfort in her chest—a feeling she hadn't felt in months.
They talked for nearly an hour.
About silly things.
About food cravings.
About funny mishaps.
About absolutely nothing and everything.
Marcela's humor was chaotic and bubbly.
Her presence was warm and full of life.
Talking to her felt like sunlight through a cloudy sky.
Before leaving, Marcela nudged her gently.
"Hey… whatever heavy thing you're carrying? You don't have to carry it alone. Even if we just met, I'm rooting for you."
Auri's heart squeezed. "Thank you… really."
Marcela winked. "Friends don't let friends be sad alone."
Auri walked home lighter.
Not healed.
But breathing.
And for now, that was enough.