The familiar tightness in Aron’s throat returned, the words Helga was speaking intertwining with his own painful recollections. "If she wanted," Helga added, "she could have gotten out of there easily. But instead, she chose us."
The sound of Helga’s calm voice suddenly shifted, a tremor sneaking in as she spoke her next words. "I still tremble when I rember the news—when I heard on the TV that Es Balhale was dead." Her eyes found Aron’s, and he could see the tears welling up behind them. "That news... it broke . It broke us both, didn’t it?"
Aron’s jaw tightened at the ntion of that day, the one that had haunted him ever since. He couldn’t respond, the knot in his throat making it impossible to speak. Helga didn’t wait for an answer, her own emotions pushing her forward. "You rember, don’t you, Aron? That day you heard the news and tried calling her, but her phone... it just... it never rang." She paused, her voice thick with emotion. "That was the mont we thought we lost her for good."
Her words were like a dagger to his heart, cutting through the years he had tried to forget. His lips quivered as he spoke, his voice barely a whisper. "I rember..." His gaze dropped, and for the first ti in years, he let himself relive that day fully.
He still rembered how he had collapsed to the ground, unable to stand from the sheer shock. His world had tilted on its axis, and nothing made sense. Even when their first child was born prematurely—because of the shock—the joy of her birth had been overshadowed by the all-consuming fear that Es was gone. Aron closed his eyes, his fists trembling as he rembered.
"When I was shouting in pain that day, all I could see was Es’s face," Aron murmured, his voice raw with emotion. "I blad myself. I blad myself for leaving her in that office, for not doing more to protect her." He swallowed hard, his eyes burning with unshed tears. "When the baby was born, I looked at her, but all I could think about was Es. I wasn’t even happy because I was terrified... terrified that we’d lost her for good."
Helga nodded, her own tears now falling freely. "I know," she whispered. "It was the sa for ."
There was a long, heavy silence between them, the weight of their shared pain pressing down on them both. Aron finally broke the silence, his voice barely audible. "But then... she called."
Helga’s face softened, the mory of that day coming back to her as vividly as if it had just happened. "Yes," she whispered, "and when she did, all that pain, all the suffering... it burned away." She closed her eyes for a mont, her chest rising and falling with the deep breath she took. "I still rember how you fell to your knees and cried when you heard her voice."
Aron nodded, his own tears now slipping down his cheeks. "It was like a lifeline," he murmured. "Like everything I had lost ca rushing back. I wanted to run to her, to see her, to make sure she was okay... and then I wanted to scream at her for putting us through that, for making us think she was gone." His voice cracked as the emotions finally overwheld him, and he hung his head, his shoulders shaking with the weight of it all.
Helga reached out then, her hand resting gently on Aron’s arm. She didn’t say anything, but her touch was enough. They sat there in silence, united in their grief, their relief, and the deep, unbreakable bond they had shared with Es. Even though the pain of that ti would never fully disappear, the mory of her voice, her presence, and the undeniable strength she had given them would always remain.
Es had been the thread that tied them all together, and though they had
Aron’s chest heaved, the tightness in his throat building as Helga’s words sank in deeper than he expected. His lips quivered, and for a mont, he could do nothing but stare, absorbing her plea.
"I’m not saying you should support her unconditionally, or blindly believe everything she says," Helga’s voice was gentle, but there was a quiet intensity behind it. "But can we at least stay by her side? Silently, without pushing, without expecting? Just... be there when she needs us. Can we, at least this ti, try to understand if she needs us, instead of assuming?"
The words hit Aron like a punch to the gut. His breath hitched, and the overwhelming tide of emotions that he’d been trying to suppress finally broke free.
Tears welled in his eyes, spilling over before he could stop them. He tried to cover his mouth with his hand, but the sobs broke through anyway, ragged and uncontrollable. Sliding down to the ground, he buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking with the weight of everything he had held back.
He felt helpless, unable to reconcile the fear gnawing at him with the truth he’d always known deep down.
Es
She had always been strong, always had a reason behind everything she did. He knew that. He believed that. But the thought—the terrifying possibility—that one day she might slip again, might fall into that broken shell of herself... it was sothing he couldn’t bear. He didn’t have the courage to face that version of Asma again.
The mory of seeing her like that a few days ago tore at his heart. It was like watching soone stab him over and over, a relentless pain that never dulled.
He had never felt so powerless, so utterly useless, standing there, watching her spiral. He couldn’t help but think, maybe—just maybe—if she had others by her side, like Aron young masters , they might give her sothing to hold on to. They might help her find a reason to keep fighting, to keep going.
He didn’t want to see Es beco that hollow version of herself again.
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