The funeral was a big affair in our world. Father was an important man, and so Mother’s death was a social event. Everyone wanted to attend, and everyone was crying crocodile tears as they said their condolences. My eyes were dry as sand. I could see people glancing my way, waiting for me to cry over my mother, to show the reaction they all expected from me. But I couldn’t cry. I didn’t want to cry, not surrounded by so many people with their fake tears. They pretended they’d cared for my mother, that they’d known her but none of these people had visited her when she was bound to the house. She’d been dead to them long before her death. The moment she hadn’t been the glitzy society lady they’d ditched her like a dirty rag. They made me sick, all of them.
Father put his arms around Fabi’s and my shoulders as he led us toward the coffin. I shuddered under his touch. I didn’t think he realized it was revulsion for his closeness that had caused my reaction because he actually squeezed my shoulder. It took incredible self-control for me to stay where I was and not rip away from him.
The priest started his prayer as the coffin was slowly lowered into the hole. I peered up through my lashes and caught Romero’s eyes over the grave. Unlike Luca and Matteo, who’d flown in for the funeral, Romero wasn’t allowed to stand on this side with our family. His expression was solemn as we watched each other but then he lowered his gaze back to the coffin. He’d been avoiding me in the last few days. When I entered the room he was in, he usually left with a stupid excuse. It was obvious he couldn’t stand my presence and didn’t know how to tell me. Everyone was walking on eggshells around my siblings and me now. I wished he’d tell me the truth. I could handle it.
Father led us back toward the other mourners, away from Mother’s grave and finally let go of me. I released a quiet breath, glad to be out of the spotlight and away from my father.
The moment people started to head for the coffin to say their last goodbye, I backed away. Nobody stopped me. Nobody even seemed to notice. They were busy putting on their show. I turned and didn’t look back. I rushed down the path, away from the grave, sending pebbles flying as my feet pounded the ground. I wasn’t even sure where I was going. The graveyard was huge, there were plenty of places to find peace and silence. I reached a part that was even more opulent than where Mother had been buried. Rows over rows of old family vaults surrounded me. Most of them were locked but one of the iron gates was ajar. I headed that way, and after having made sure nobody was watching me, I opened it and slipped inside. It was cool in the vault and the smell of mildew drifted into my nose. Everything was made from gray marble. I sank down slowly and sat with my back against the cold wall.
In moments like this I understood why Gianna had run away. I’d never had the urge to leave this life behind forever, but sometimes I wanted to escape at least for a little while.
I knew eventually someone would notice I was missing and come looking for me, but I didn’t even care that Father would lose his shit on me.
It took less than an hour before I heard someone call my name in the distance. I opened my lips to reply but not a sound came out. I rested my head against the marble, and peered out through the bars of the iron gate. So often in my life I’d felt as if I was surrounded by invisible bars, and now I sought shelter behind them. A bitter smile twisted my lips. Steps crunched outside of the vault. I held my breath as someone came into view outside the gate.
A tall form with a familiar frame loomed in front of it. Romero. He hadn’t seen me yet but his eyes scanned their surroundings. They passed right over the spot where I was hiding and he was about to turn away. I could have stayed hidden, alone with my anger and misery and sadness, but suddenly I didn’t want this. For some reason, I wanted Romero to find me. He hadn’t faked tears and he wasn’t family; he was safe. I cleared my throat quietly but of course a man like Romero didn’t miss it. He turned and his eyes zoomed in on me. He headed for me, opened the gate and stepped in with a bent head because he was too tall to stand. He held out his hand for me. I searched his eyes for the pity I hated so much, but he looked merely concerned and maybe even like he cared. I wasn’t sure what to make of his concern when not too long ago he’d done his utmost to stay away from me.
I slipped my hand into his and his fingers closed around me before he pulled me to my feet. The momentum of the movement catapulted me straight into Romero’s arms. I should have pulled back. He should have pushed me back. We didn’t.
It felt good to
