I didn’t understand this man at all. Sometimes he was cruel. Sometimes he was kind. He was an enigma, an absolute mystery. I would have to appreciate his good moments and push through the bad. My hand reached for his on his thigh, and I interlocked our fingers. “Thank you.”
He didn’t say a word. Instead, he squeezed my hand in acknowledgment.
Everyone had left the gravesite. I was the only who lingered, unable to leave both of my parents buried in the soil for all eternity. I was their only remnant of mortality, their only connection to this world.
I stayed there for so long that the sun started to set on the horizon, taking the heat with it. Everyone else had left in their cars a long time ago, unable to bear the summer temperatures.
Maverick stayed near the road, giving me the space to mourn my father in private. The driver waited for us to finish our afternoon, and while Maverick could have left without me and sent someone back to pick me up, he waited.
Maybe he wasn’t as much of an asshole as I’d thought.
Minutes later, he walked across the grass and came to my side. We were alone together now, so there was no need to put on a show, to pretend we were newlyweds suffering through a tragedy together.
But he moved his arm around my waist anyway. “It’s getting late. We can stay a few more minutes, but we should get going.” He was the gentlest he’d ever been, not ordering me around like he had in the past.
“It hurts to leave him here. When I walk away…it’ll really be final. This day will come to a close, my father will be dead, and then I’ll move on…” I unclenched the tissue in my hand and wiped my nose.
“He’d want you to move on.”
“I know…it’s just hard.”
His hand started to move up my back, gently massaging my muscles through the thin material of my dress.
“Don’t forget where he really is. Physically, he may be in the ground. But his soul is up there…with your mother. He’s moved on—and so should you.”
I wiped my tears away with my tissue then clutched it in my hand once more. “Is that where you think your mother is?”
His hand paused in the middle of my back. “If there is a heaven, that’s exactly where she is.”
13
Maverick
Life went on for everyone else, but for Arwen, her whole world seemed to stop.
She stayed in her room day after day, preferring solitude and the memories that haunted her. Sometimes she took the meals that Abigail sent, but she rejected all the rest. Everyone handled grief differently, but she handled it like someone had poured acid over her eyes.
I shouldn’t care about her condition. When she was locked in her room, she left me alone. It was like she didn’t exist at all. I returned to working, drinking, and fucking like I didn’t have a wife on the second floor.
But she kept popping up in my mind.
I guess I missed the fiery woman who screamed at me outside the opera house. I missed the woman who told off my father without batting an eyelash. I missed the woman in the painting.
I walked to the second floor and approached her bedroom. It’d been four days since I’d last seen her, and Abigail reported to me that she’d spent her time sleeping, taking baths, and watching TV. She hadn’t left her bedroom once.
I rapped my knuckles against the door.
Her response was solemn. “I’m not hungry, Abigail.”
I let myself inside and found her standing in front of her closet, wearing a purple dress as she slipped on her sandals. Her purse was on her shoulder like she intended to leave the house even though it was almost eight. “Going somewhere?”
She righted herself and turned to look at me. “I’m sleeping at Dante’s tonight.”
Dante was the guy I’d seen at the hospital. He was a good-looking guy, tall, but not muscular the way I was. He was also the same guy in her bed, the one who wanted to marry her until I came into the picture.
She came toward me, her hair and makeup done. Her spirit had improved, but there was still distinct melancholy in her gaze. But she must be in a better mood if she was ready to leave the house for the first time. “I’ll be home in the morning. I took some time off from the opera, but they’re expecting me again tomorrow night.”
I couldn’t ask her to stay because that’s not what we agreed on, but I felt odd letting her leave my property on her own and venturing into the city to be with her lover. But I was just with someone last night, fucking until my headboard made another dent in the wall. I had to let her go because it wouldn’t be right to ask her to stay. “Alright. I’ll give you a long overdue tour of the house tomorrow. And if you’re interested, you can see the factory where we produce, mix, and age the cheese.” It was a family business that had been handed down for generations. Now it was in my hands because my father had other ambitions that had nothing to do with food.