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As people drop roses into the hole where my brother’s soul will rest, my mother’s screams turn into anger toward my father. She jerks away from me suddenly and pushes him.
She yells and thrusts her fingers in his face, “Our son’s blood is on your hands. I am leaving you when I get home. You rotten son of a bitch.”
My mother has lost all hope and become uncaring.
The loss of Tommaso has suffocated her, and she’s unable to find the strength to keep going and breathing.
It doesn’t help that my father hasn’t played the role of a supportive husband.
Their grieving love languages are different.
And it’s destroying them.
I peer at Benny next to me. He hasn’t left my side once today. Not even when a man asked him to speak in private regarding business. He’s blown everyone off who isn’t his wife.
I didn’t get to choose my husband, but he’s working on being the man I’d have selected if awarded that luxury.
My father spoke at the funeral. It wasn’t for long, and he didn’t say much, but it brought a weak smile to my face. Tommaso deserved to hear kind words from a father who expected so much from him.
People watch, stunned at my mother’s behavior as she spits on my father’s shoes. His eyes are tight and bloodshot as he attempts to console her, but she only fights harder.
The Cavallaros are falling apart.
Bria and Isabella stare at me in expectation, as if I were our mother’s handler.
“I need to stop this,” I say with slumped shoulders. “Stay here. I think I have to handle her on my own.”
Cristian walks to Benny while I retreat to play referee with my parents, who are speed-walking through the cemetery.
They’re steps away from me now as my mother pushes my father farther and farther from their son.
My heels splash into mud puddles, dropping into the mud and slowing my pace.
“Screw it,” I say, stopping to remove them.
That’s when I notice it.
A roll of thunder and a bolt of lightning crash through the sky as a black car with tinted windows as dark as night slowly rolls toward us. I stare at it, telling myself this day has given me morbid thoughts, but I can’t seem to take my eyes off it.
As bad as I want to fight off this feeling, I can’t seem to ignore it.
The car passes my parents.
Drives by the line of cars parked on the side of the street.
My gut tells me I’m right when the window slowly rolls down.
I drop my shoes at the sight of the top of a man’s head … and a gun.
But it’s too late.
I briefly glance at Benny.
Cristian claps him on the back, and Benny nods before strolling in my direction.
My gaze returns to the car.
Their aim is on my husband.
