The morning sun spilled soft golden light through the cracked kitchen blinds, painting warm stripes across the old wooden floor. Gektor sat at the kitchen table, holding his coffee cup with a slight shake in his hand. Age was catching up to him, but this little house was still home—the house he had built with Lina, his wife of 45 years.
The house creaked with every small movement, just like his knees when he stood up. But these walls held a lifetime of memories. Photographs lined the shelves: Alex in his graduation gown, beaming proudly; Stefan grinning from ear to ear while holding up a fish almost as big as himself; and Lina—his beloved Lina—smiling in every picture.
Her smile was bright, full of life, and her eyes sparkled with the kind of love that never faded. Gektor’s heart ached every time he looked at those photos. He whispered softly, “You always said I’d get old and cranky.
Well, Lina, you were half right.” He smiled gently, but the warmth didn’t quite reach his eyes. The house felt too quiet now, too empty without her. Yet, even in the stillness, Gektor felt her close.
The worn-out chair she always sat in, the favorite teacup tucked in the cupboard, and the faint scent of lavender from the little sachets she hid in the drawers—they all whispered stories of a life they had shared. “I miss you every day,” he murmured, clutching a locket around his neck. “But I’ll keep going.
For you. For our boys.”
Suddenly, a voice broke the silence. “Dad, you good?” Stefan asked, standing quietly in the doorway.
Gektor looked up, seeing his younger son’s calm and steady face. “I’m fine, just thinking,” he replied. Stefan nodded, the dependable one, always there.
Alex, the older son, had moved far away after law school, but Stefan had stayed. He had brought Angela home three years ago—and that was when things began to change. “Breakfast?” Stefan asked, moving toward the stove.
“I’m not hungry yet,” Gektor said, rising slowly. He felt the tension before he saw Angela come into the kitchen. “Stefan, we don’t have all day,” Angela said sharply, her heels clicking against the floor.
She didn’t seem to care that no one was watching. “We’re supposed to leave in an hour.”
“I know, Ange. I’m making something quick,” Stefan said calmly.
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