When Angela demanded her husband send his aging father to a nursing home, she never expected the bold choice he’d make instead. Torn between love and loyalty, Stefan’s decision reshaped his family’s future. The morning light poured through the cracked kitchen blinds, falling in soft golden beams across the room. Gektor sat at the table, sipping his coffee. His hand trembled slightly as he lifted the cup, the years catching up to him. The small house creaked and groaned, just like his knees when he stood. But it was home, the house he had built with Lina, his wife of 45 years. The walls were filled with pictures. Alex in his graduation gown, Stefan grinning from ear to ear as he held up a fish almost as big as he was, and Lina, his wife, smiling in every frame. Gektor’s chest tightened every time he looked at her.
She looked so young, her smile as wide as the horizon and her eyes sparkling with the kind of love that didn’t fade. He spoke softly, his voice trembling. “You always said I’d get old and cranky. Well, you were half right, Lina.” He smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. The house was quiet without her. Too quiet. But in the stillness, Gektor could still feel her presence. The worn chair in the corner, her favorite teacup in the cupboard, even the faint scent of lavender from the sachets she had tucked into the drawers, they all whispered of the life they had shared.
“I miss you every day,” he murmured, clutching the locket tightly. “But I’ll keep going. For you. For our boys.” “Dad, you good?” Stefan’s voice broke through the quiet. Gektor turned to see his younger son standing in the doorway. “I’m fine, just thinking.” Stefan nodded, his steady nature written all over his calm face. He was the one who stayed, always reliable, always here. Alex had moved across the country after law school, while Stefan had brought Angela home three years ago. That’s when things began to change. “Breakfast?” Stefan asked, heading toward the stove.
“I’m not hungry yet,” Gektor said, standing slowly. He could feel Angela’s presence before he saw her. “Stefan, we don’t have all day,” she said sharply, walking into the kitchen. Her heels clicked against the floor, though there was no one to impress. “We’re supposed to leave in an hour.” “I know, Ange. I’m making something quick.” Angela rolled her eyes. “Fine. But don’t be late, okay?” She barely glanced at Gektor before walking out, her phone already in hand. Gektor sighed, sitting back down. “She’s just stressed,” Stefan said, though he didn’t sound convinced.
“She’s always stressed,” Gektor replied softly, his eyes following her retreating figure. Angela had a way of making herself known, even in her absence. That day was no different. “Dad, did you see my keys?” Stefan called from the living room. “No,” Gektor replied, shuffling toward the sound. Angela’s voice floated from the bedroom, sharp and clipped. “I don’t know how you live like this, Stefan,” she said. “This house is too small. It’s falling apart. And him—”“Ange, don’t,” Stefan sa id, cutting her off. Gektor paused near the door, his heart sinking. He’d never heard her talk like that. Not openly. He backed away, unwilling to listen further.