SWNOVELS Chapter 62
“Please say something,” I beg as I watch my wife stare at her reflection in the mirror in our dressing room, her eyes roaming over the black mourning dress that was delivered to her this morning.
She ignores me, like she has from the moment I stepped off my jet and listened to her voicemail, calling her back immediately as I turned the plane back around and rushed home to her. I got there too late, and she’d already left the hospital. I found her in our library, staring at the fireplace wordlessly, her eyes glazed over.
Sierra reaches for her lipstick with trembling hands and touches up her makeup, but her grief is evident in the redness of her eyes, and the bags underneath them. She hasn’t let me hug her as she cried herself to sleep next to me, night after night, hasn’t even let me hold her hand. If not for my mother, she wouldn’t have eaten anything in days, and it’s Raven that helped her into the shower. No matter what I do or say, she won’t lean on me, and I only have myself to blame for it.
“We need to leave,” she says eventually. “Grandma doesn’t like it when I’m late.”
I reach for her hand, but she wraps her arms around herself as she walks out, and I follow behind her, my heart in turmoil. Sierra looks up in surprise when she finds my parents and all of my siblings, including Valeria, parked outside her house. They all opted for black cars today, and they’re all patiently standing in front of them, waiting for Sierra. She takes one look at them and buries her face in her hands for a few moments, and I draw a steadying breath as she tries her best to straighten her shoulders and regain her composure. This time, she doesn’t pull away when I wrap my arm around her and guide her to our car.
“Your siblings will be just behind our own security and the police escort,” I explain as we drive to the Windsor Estate, where the procession starts. Anne Windsor’s funeral is one of the most secure yet high risk events of the year. Many politicians, royalty, and almost every business tycoon across industries flew in for it, to honor the woman that we all deeply respected. Most brought their own private security, but the city was fully shut down for it too, police and armed forces on high alert.
Sierra stares out the window as she watches the hearse drive through the Windsor gates, Windsor household staff standing on either side of the open gates, tears in their eyes as they watch Anne leave one final time. The hearse is followed by Ares and Raven’s car, then Luca and Valentina’s, Dion and Faye’s, Zane and Celeste’s, Lexington and Raya’s, and then us, followed by my parents and siblings. Every part of today has been carefully orchestrated, security acutely aware of who is which car, and even what speed we should all be driving at. Much to my surprise, the roads leading up to the graveyard are lined with people in black mourning clothes.
“I recognize some of these people from the charities Grandma founded or supported, but most are Windsor employees,” Sierra says, her voice breaking. The Windsors gave all of their employees a day off today, but I know for a fact that none of them asked their employees to be there today, so to see them all here warms my heart.
“She was so loved,” I tell Sierra as our driver stops the car, and our security personnel approaches to open the door for us. I step out and offer my wife my hand, and she hesitates before taking it. It hurts to know that even now, when she needs consolation more than anything, it isn’t me she wants anymore.
I wrap my arm around my wife as we’re escorted to our seats on the front row, hundreds of people are already waiting in the open air. We’re seated with her sisters-in-law, and she draws a shaky breath when her brothers carry the casket in. Raven wraps her arm around Sierra, and my wife places her head on Raven’s shoulder as the ceremony starts.
Almost like the gods are weeping too, rain begins to fall, and black umbrellas are raised everywhere as we sit back and listen as Ares addresses the crowd, thanking them before regaling us all with stories about Grandma Anne — their version, not the one the world knew. He tells them about growing up with her after they lost their parents in a plane crash, and how she tried her best to never make them feel their loss. Some of Sierra’s somberness lifts when he begins to talk about about heated fights for cookies, and how their close-knit family is a testament of Grandma’s love and values, and that they’ll never take it for granted. All the while, I watch my wife, wishing I could take away her grief and carry it all by myself.
Ares is trembling as a priest takes his place, and I draw a steadying breath, my own chest aching. I’ll miss our lunches, and the way she’d pry for information about our marriage in far from subtle ways. I’ll miss her cookies, and the advise she always had ready for me when she realized that I was so busy with work that I couldn’t get my mind off it.
In the last few weeks, especially, she kept reminding me that that there’s always sunshine after rain, eventually, and to hold on to memories of better days. I’m not sure how, but she knew I’d been struggling, yet she never forced me to talk about it, nor did she seem angry at me for not being okay and in turn, hurting Sierra. The last thing she ever said to me was that she didn’t regret entrusting me with her granddaughter’s happiness, and as the priest asks us all to rise, I silently vow that I’ll ensure she’ll never regret it, if it’s the last thing I do. I’ll find a way to make her happy again, to make her smile again, no matter the cost.
“No, please,” Sierra says, when the casket is being lowered, and she freezes when we’re all asked to throw flowers on top.
“Come on, Kitten,” I murmur, throwing my arm around her as we follow her siblings. Sierra is shaking as she clenches a red rose so tightly that her palms begin to bleed from the thorns, blood running down her fingers.
I watch her as she holds her hand over the casket, her expression crumpling when she loosens her grip on the rose. Her legs tremble, and I catch her as she falls to her knees, a sob tearing through her throat for the first time today. I pull her close and hold her as she cries her heart out, and all the while, I wish I had the power to undo what happened — her being taken, her grandmother’s death, all of it. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to turn back time to when she was happy.