Chapter 3. Lucas

Shimma’s POV

One month had passed since my father fell ill; three weeks had gone since he died.

I often found myself staring at the walls of our home, searching for signs of my father. The silence was deafening and unbearable. I could hardly believe this was happening.

My mother had retreated into her sorrow, and I felt the weight of her grief pressing down on me. I wanted to comfort her, but I was struggling to carry my own pain.

Mattias, on the other hand, had been my rock, offering support and love when I needed it most. He tried to fill the void that my father’s absence left, but no one could replace him. No one.

One evening, as I sat on the couch, I picked up my phone and hesitated before dialing Mattias’s number. I needed to hear his voice, to feel grounded again. When he answered, his familiar warmth washed over me.

“Hey babe,” he said calmly. “How are you doing today?”

“I’m… okay, I guess,” I replied, though I could feel the t