Chapter Thirty
Alex
The sun is bright and overbearing, contrasting my pensive mood as I stand next to Osmond’s grave. Parker holds my hand while staring at the tombstone, a freshly chiseled marble block with angels flanking his last name in all capital letters. Whoever carved this tombstone took great care with the details, being sure to imbue the cherubs with gentle grins as their little fingers strum heavenly harps.
“That must have been your mother,” I say in a low voice. “You wouldn’t have put angels on his tombstone.”
“Actually, that was in his will.” He shrugs and then squeezes my hand, running his thumb over the ridges of my knuckles. “I don’t know. He was really into the after-life stuff, if you can believe it.”
I hum curiously. “And what do you believe?”
“Fuck if I know.”
I want to chuckle, but the silence feels nice. His hand clutching mine feels confident and steady, a testament to our strength. As the rays of the sun warm my shoulders, I observe the rest of the cemetery. “Nice spot.”
“Yeah, it’s a good patch for the Somervilles.”
“You want to be buried here, too?”
He sighs. “I don’t know, Alex. I don’t like thinking about it.”
“A guy like you, who prepares for everything? I’m surprised.”
“Believe it or not, precious, there are things in this world that scare me.”
The breeze picks up and rustles my hair, inviting me to look skyward. I squint against the brilliant sun as Parker scoots closer to me.
“I know,” I tell him. “I’m afraid of things too.”
“Everyone is afraid of things.”
I nod and focus on him, offering him a gentle smile. “It’s okay. I’ll be right here with you when you get scared.”
All that toughness he wears just melts under my gaze as the left side of his mouth quirks into the smallest hint of a smile. He wraps his arm around my shoulders, inviting me into him as he sighs. “I’m glad they found his body.”
“Me too.”
“Would have been awful if it went out to sea.”
I press my cheek into his chest, feeling his heart beat rhythmically against my skin. “You have closure now. That makes me happy, Parker.”
“Yeah, same.”
The cemetery seems so empty even though it’s brimming with tombstones. Stone angels guard various entryways and paths while crypts dot the horizon. I’m studying a few of them when Soren and Tomas wander up to us and stand in reflective silence next to us.
“Hey,” Tomas says. He extends a flask. “I know it’s early, but I thought you would want some.”
“You still sober?”
Tomas chuckles. “Sure am.”
I tilt my chin toward him and say, “Proud of you.”
“And you, doll. You’ve been clean for a while.”
I smile as I resume my cuddle session with Parker, knowing he needs it. Tomas stands to my left and takes my hand while Soren rests an arm on Parker’s free shoulder. I’m not sure how long we stand there or if any of us suggest moving, but soon, we’re standing in front of Lev’s grave, a fresh bouquet of flowers sitting in the metal vase in front of his gravestone.
I release Tomas and Parker while dropping to my knees. Staring at his name is all I can do for about five minutes while I struggle to determine if I want to scream or cry. The painful nightmare is over, so why do I feel like I’m coming apart at the seams?