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Ping.
Ping.
Ping.
An ugly choking sound leaves me, and Isaac reminds me he’s here, holding me closer, silently reminding me that I’m not alone. But it’s not his arms I want around me, it’s not his comfort I seek.
My gaze slides to Roman’s, and his hazel eyes sear into my soul. He stares at me as I rest my head on his father’s arm, at the way Isaac’s hand flexes on my shoulder, his gold wedding band barely glinting in the cloud-covered sun.
A balmy, warm breeze blows across my sticky skin, sending a shiver down my sweaty spine. It’s over ninety degrees today, but clearly God didn’t give a shit about the heat, and decided to add rain into the mix. I don’t swear much, but I’m pretty sure the Lord is fucking with us.
I almost scoff.
It’s fitting He’d do something like this—make us stand in the hot rain and mourn Mama. He didn’t care when He took Daddy from us years ago. He didn’t care when He took Mama from me days ago. Why would He care about the damn weather?
I shove back the emotions that have swirled inside me since the moment I saw her being wheeled toward the ambulance.
It’s not fair, I know that. I can’t blame the Lord for nature any more than I can blame Him for calling Mama to Heaven. Accidents happen. Isaac has reminded me of that time and time again in the last week. It’s no one’s fault.
Still, it’s hard to not be angry with God when He’s taken so much from me before I’ve even had a chance to live.
Isaac squeezes my shoulders, pulling me from my whirling thoughts. I tilt my head back, getting a small glimpse of him before shutting my eyes to block the rain.
“What do you say to some peach pie when we get home?” he murmurs, and I nod, unable to speak. I drop my head, letting the raindrops slide down my face, pretending they’re the tears that I know should be falling. “That’s my girl.” His voice is a harsh whisper. Roughly, he clears his throat, and the sound of him choking on his emotions has me choking on mine.
Despite agreeing, I won’t be eating any of the peach pie even though it’s my favorite. I know he’s just trying to take the pain away and get me to finally eat something, but I can’t bring myself to tell him I never want to eat another bite of peach pie again. It’ll remind me of her—everything will. But knowing I’m eating our favorite treat without her just won’t feel right.
Going on living without her won’t feel right.
He kisses the top of my head, his lips lingering as he breathes deeply before pulling away. He clears his throat again, and I glance up, finding him pinching between his brows. He looks exhausted. Heavy, dark bags are growing under his chocolate brown eyes.
And it’s not until this moment I realize I’ve not only lost my mother, but he’s lost his wife. My heart aches for him; it aches for Roman.
Isaac has been staying strong for me. He’s been nothing but painfully stoic since Mama died. He’s been a rock for me to lean on. And Roman has been…
“Preacher Isaac,” someone calls from behind us. I drag my gaze from Isaac’s, finding my stepbrother’s just as the voice rings through the solemn air. Roman’s square jaw flexes, his eyes hard as he stares at his father. His expression is clear—do not leave us. Not right now. Don’t go to your flock. Stay with us, your family. Your children.
“I’ll be right back,” Isaac promises, kissing my temple. He hesitates, his arm still around me. “We’ve got this, sweetheart.” His voice is thick with emotion as he searches my eyes. I swallow hard and nod against him, feeling the thirty bobby-pins keeping my thick mess of curls in place, dig into my scalp. I ignore it and let the tiny pin-pricks of pain ground me.
It’s better than feeling nothing.
Isaac gives me another squeeze before dropping his arm to his side. Without his shelter, the harsh rain begins pelting me harder. He pauses, looking between Roman and me. The tension grows thick between the two of them but no one speaks as Isaac turns and leaves to be with his flock.
I stare back at the casket as it’s lowered into the ground. Preacher Hale’s earlier words come back to me, and anger comes with them.
God needed another angel.
What about Isaac, my stepfather and her loving husband? Or her stepson, Roman? What about our church and this town? Our friends? Grandma Jean? Oli and Chase? She’s been like a second mother to them. Surely they need her more than Heaven does.
What about me?
If God really knew anything, He’d know she was needed just as badly here, in Divinity Falls, as the preacher’s wife and my mother, more than He needed another angel. He has millions of them, why did He have to take her? He already has Daddy and Cami.
Why would He take her before we were ready to let her go?
We’re left scrambling to pick up the pieces and figure out how to live in a world where she doesn’t exist anymore. How am I supposed to continue on with my life knowing she’s missing every milestone? How am I supposed to be happy when I graduate, or at my wedding, or when I have my first baby, knowing she’s not there to celebrate with me?
It’s not fair.
