Chapter: Something Else He Left Behind

It was Saturday morning, and Olivia had decided to deep-clean her apartment. Something symbolic. Dusting, moving furniture, opening windows. As if tidying up her space could somehow help her tidy up inside as well.

In one of the boxes she had avoided for months—one labeled "Tom's things"—she found a small hardcover notebook, tucked between one of his sweaters and an old pair of headphones. She didn't remember seeing it before. It was simple, held shut by a black elastic band.

She sat on the floor, held it in her hands for a moment... and opened it.

It wasn't just any notebook. It was a personal journal of Tom's. On the first page, in his fast, slightly messy handwriting, it read:

"Things I want to remember if I'm ever gone."

Olivia felt a lump in her throat.

The pages that followed were filled with small lists, scattered thoughts, memories of moments shared with her:
– Olivia's laugh when she loses control at the movies.
– Her favorite coffee: dark, with just a drop of milk.
– The day we walked in the rain and she said she felt alive.
– Remind her every day that she's enough. Even when she doesn't believe it.
– If she ever feels alone, play her that piano song that calms her down.

She closed her eyes. These weren't instructions. Not a formal letter. They were fragments. Crumbs of love left behind on purpose, as if he knew that one day she would need to find him again, without meaning to.

And there he was. In every line. Present.

Olivia smiled through tears.

—"You never stopped looking out for me, did you?"

And she felt that even though their story on paper had ended, Tom still had hidden chapters left to be found.

That night, Olivia placed the notebook beside her bed, right on top of her nightstand. She didn't hide it. She didn't store it away like a painful memory. She left it there, as a quiet companion. As if Tom could still whisper to her when the silence became too loud.

Every night, she read one page. Not all of them. Just one. Like a carefully measured dose of memory, of love, of peace.

The notebook didn't hold her back. On the contrary, it moved her forward. It was a reminder that she had been deeply loved, and that kind of love doesn't disappear with death. It transforms.

And so, while the world kept turning and the days grew a little brighter, Olivia learned how to live again. Not without him.

But with everything he left behind.