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I was going to cry, and I had told myself not to do it. I had to be strong for him. His words felt like someone had just taken a hammer to my heart.
God, Tory, why did you do this? He is just a baby.
“She didn’t love me like you do,” he said as I held him against me. Still no tears. No sobbing.
“She did love you. We just love differently,” I said, leaning back and fighting back the tears to look at him.
I had to make sure he wasn’t trying to hide his pain. He needed to let it out, not pretend it wasn’t there. His mama had done that, and I would not let him do it.
“You love me the most,” he said.
“I don’t think one of us loved you more,” I said, not sure how to handle this.
“You do. When I need you, you are there.”
I pulled him to my chest again to hide his view of my tears. I looked over at Rio, who was watching us with his jaw clenched and eyes that appeared to have a slight shimmer to them. He looked as if he was holding back tears.
“It’s okay to cry,” I told Cullen. “You can cry because you loved her and because you will miss her. It’s good to cry.”
He didn’t say anything, but his small hand fisted against my chest, holding tightly to my shirt. “I can’t cry. I’m trying, but, Aunt Bryn”—he pulled back and looked up at me—“am I bad because I’m just glad it wasn’t you?”
I shook my head. “No, baby, you’re not bad. It’s good to say what you’re feeling.”
“I love Mama,” he said. “And I’ll miss her.”
I tucked his hair behind his ear. “Me too, buddy.”
He laid his head back on my chest, and we sat there in silence for several minutes.
When he finally lifted it again, he looked at Rio. “Can we watch the movie?”
Rio moved then to go straight to the television. “Absolutely,” he said.
Cullen climbed down out of my lap and went to pick out the movie for Rio. I sat there and watched them as they got it in the DVD player, and then Cullen came back and sat down beside me. Rio took the seat on the other side of him, but his gaze met mine while he sat down.
He put his arm across the back of the sofa and held his hand out to me. I reached up and threaded my fingers through his and curled toward them as we watched the movie. Later, Rio fed me a cupcake while Cullen giggled. When it was time for bed, Rio went to mine, and I climbed in bed with Cullen. Even if he hadn’t asked me to, I knew he needed me.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Rio
The funeral was small. The people in attendance weren’t there for Tory. They had come for Bryn and Cullen. I stood beside her, holding her hand. Her tears had seemed to finally stop, and she was still and silent during the short ceremony. Cullen also hadn’t cried. Bryn was worried about it, but the kid saw what she didn’t realize. She was his mother. She had taken care of him his entire life. Tory had just been there.
Henley and Saul stood behind us. Hillya stood beside Henley with Hazel on the other side of her. Drake was on the other side of Saul. He had come for my sake. Then, there were the two owners of The Red Stiletto—Marley, along with her husband, and Saint, who wouldn’t fucking stop looking at Bryn. A dancer I remembered from the night I had gone to the club was also here, and I knew Drake was glad he had come now. She was clothed, but unlike Bryn, she still wore the heavy makeup and tight clothing when she wasn’t working.
The last prayer was said, and Bryn stepped forward and tossed the bright yellow rose she’d said was her sister’s favorite onto the casket. Cullen tossed his next.
“Good-bye, Mama,” he said, and I heard Bryn let out a small sob. The first one today.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders when he walked back to stand with her. He hugged her tightly. It was then I saw the tears in his eyes swimming like pools. Bryn sat back down in her chair and pulled him onto her lap and held him while they cried softly together.
I saw Henley pull out a tissue and blot her own tears as she watched them. It was done.
The others talked in muted tones, and as they left, they didn’t bother Bryn and Cullen.
I thanked Saul and Drake for coming. I hugged Hazel and Hillya. They were following the others, but there was one person not leaving. Saint stood off to the side, watching Bryn. I hadn’t forgotten about the night at the club and how protective he’d been of her and how she’d put his leather jacket on like she did that often, nor when he had shown up at her apartment.
