Chapter 3: The Sign of Jules

The following days were strangely filled with small signs, fleeting moments that, though subtle, seemed to echo the presence of Jules. Caroline and David had reconnected, but not yet fully. Their conversations were hesitant, marked by heavy silences, but there was a new lightness in their exchanges, as if the air between them had cleared. They were ready to move forward, but each at their own pace, measuring themselves against the ghosts of the past.

One afternoon, as they met at David's house to discuss the practicalities of sharing custody of Jules, a gentle breeze blew through the open window of the living room. Caroline paused for a moment, watching the curtain flutter slightly. It was nothing major, but it reminded her of the sensation she had felt that morning when Jules had appeared. It wasn't fear, but a familiar shiver.

David, busy sorting through some papers on the table, glanced up at her, intrigued by her sudden silence.

— "What's wrong?" he asked, seeing her staring at the window.

Caroline shook her head, her heart beating a little faster.

— "It's nothing. Just a feeling. A shiver." She moved toward the window and gently closed it, as if the simple action could calm the strange warmth spreading in the air. "You know, David, these past few days... I've had the impression he's still here, like something greater is guiding us."

David looked at her for a moment without answering, then nodded. He, too, had felt those small moments of strangeness. But he didn't speak of them, not wanting to be swept away by thoughts that, in his mind, seemed unrealistic. Yet, he couldn't deny the apparent peace that had settled between them, as if Jules, in some way, had opened a door no one had seen before.

That evening, while they were having dinner together, another sign appeared. The doorbell rang suddenly, but no one was there. David quickly stood up and went to open the door. Nothing. Just the cool evening air and the light of a nearly full moon. But when he turned back to Caroline, he saw her staring at something, her eyes wide with surprise.

— "It's... it's him, isn't it?" she whispered to herself, tears welling in her eyes.

On the table, right in front of her, a small object had suddenly disappeared. An object they hadn't noticed before—a small pendant that Jules always wore around his neck when he was alive. Caroline hadn't seen this pendant since the day of her son's funeral. It was a heart-shaped pendant, engraved with his initials, a gift she had given him on his birthday.

She looked around, her hands trembling. David joined her, worried, and looked at the pendant, which seemed to have vanished without a trace.

— "Did you see that… Did you see it too?" he asked, his voice tight.

Caroline nodded slowly. A chill ran down her spine, but also a soft and comforting warmth. Jules' heart, this symbol of love, was there, as a sign. She hadn't imagined it. Jules was still here, not in a physical way, but in a form that transcended reality.

— "He's showing us he's watching over us, David," she said softly, holding her ex-husband's hands. "He wants us to heal, to find each other again."

David, though initially skeptical, began to feel a slight change within himself. The idea of seeing his son, even in the form of a sign, touched him deeply. He hadn't yet accepted the idea of this ghostly presence, but he couldn't ignore what he felt in his heart. The message from Jules, though silent, was clear: he wanted to see his parents reunited, not to relive the past, but to rebuild a future together.

— "I think you're right," he finally said, his voice full of emotion. "Maybe that's what he's waiting for from us. Maybe he understood something we don't yet."

Caroline closed her eyes for a moment, a sigh of relief escaping her. There were signs. Small signs. And she knew deep down that Jules would never be completely gone, that he would always be there to guide them, to push them to move forward.

The next day, Caroline and David decided to take a walk together. A simple walk, a way to escape the tension and rediscover the simplicity of everyday gestures. The streets were bathed in the golden light of morning, and the two parents, initially silent, began to talk gently, slowly rediscovering each other.

— "Do you remember what we used to do before?" Caroline asked, a shy smile on her lips. "When Jules was still little, and we'd spend hours just watching him play?"

David smiled back, a glimmer of nostalgia in his eyes.

— "Yes, I remember. We laughed together. We were happy, even though we didn't know it yet."

Caroline looked at her ex-husband, a faint gleam in her eyes. Maybe they had lost many things, but there was still a chance to rebuild everything. Maybe, in the end, love wasn't measured by time spent or mistakes made, but by the willingness to rediscover each other despite everything.

— "Maybe Jules was right," she said softly, resting a hand on David's shoulder. "Maybe we can always start over, even after all this."

David turned toward her, looking at her for a long moment, before taking her hand in his. They didn't know what the future held for them, but in that moment, with the memory of their son and the hope of reconciliation, they knew one thing: they had a path to walk together.

And maybe, even though Jules was no longer physically with them, he had left a light in their lives, a light that would guide them through the dark times.

They continued their walk, step by step, hand in hand, with the hope that love, even after loss, could still save them.