Chapter: What We Leave in Others

The small bookstore in Rome was full. Olivia never imagined that such an intimate space could hold so much. Around her were shelves of old books, paintings by Luciana hanging on the walls, a table with cookies and tea — just like the ones she used to share with Tom — and chairs occupied by strangers who had made her story their own.

Gloria, Merlyn, and Alejandra were in the front row, holding back tears. Matteo greeted her with a proud smile, and Luciana, from the back, gave her a small sign of encouragement.

Olivia took a deep breath. The copy of Only for Him trembled in her hands.

—This book... —she finally said— is not about death. It's about the love that remains. About everything a person can leave in you, even after they're gone. Writing it was my way of speaking to him one last time, and also... of speaking to myself again.

The room fell silent. Some eyes glistened, others fixed their gaze on her as if they understood without words.

When she finished reading a passage, people came up to her. They thanked her, spoke about their own losses, and told her how they felt accompanied in every page. Olivia listened, her heart full.

Then, a young man approached. He was in his early thirties, wearing a dark coat and holding a book in his hand, with a folded note between the pages. He wore the same cologne as Tom. Olivia held her breath.

— I don't want to make you uncomfortable —the young man said in a soft voice— but I needed to come today. I've read your book three times. It helped me understand the death of my sister... but it also helped me forgive myself.

He handed her the note.

—Can I give you this? You don't need to read it now. Just... thank you for writing from where it hurts. You have no idea how many people you've saved with that.

Olivia looked at him with tear-filled eyes. She took the note and nodded.

—Thank you for telling me. Thank you for coming.

The young man walked away, and Olivia opened the letter in silence while her friends chatted with the guests. The handwriting was firm, emotional. It said things that echoed within her: "Your story gave me back hope. You taught me that love doesn't die, it just changes form. Like your Tom, my sister is still here, in me. Thank you for reminding me."

When she looked up again, the young man was gone. But the scent still lingered in the air, like a sweet and familiar breeze.

Gloria approached her with a glass of wine in her hand.

—You know what you just did, right? —she said, touching her shoulder.

Olivia smiled, pressing the book to her chest.

—Yes. I just let go... and at the same time, I stayed with him forever.

And for the first time in a long while, she felt that she was not only alive... but that she was starting to live in peace.