The Mafia’s Wanted Desires

ASHLEY

I knew he told me he was fine, but it didn’t stop me from casting worried glances in his direction, with every passing second. I sighed in discomfort, wanting to give in to the urge of kicking my ballet flats off my feet and sinking my body onto the bed, refusing to go with him because he clearly wasn’t ready.

I could tell by several things.

The way he stared into nothingness in the mirror as he buttoned up his shirt. His shaky fingers as he missed some of the buttons in the process. The occasional shaky breaths that evaded him now and then. Not to mention the shuffling of his feet.

I bet he had even forgotten I was standing behind him.

“Here, let me help.” I threw my sling bag on the bed, walking towards him. I pushed his hands off the buttons, not meeting his eyes. I proceeded to button them properly, making sure not to miss a procession.

“Baby, I can fix my buttons.” He chuckled. A dry, lifeless sound that didn’t come out wholeheartedly. I resisted the urge to snort in his face.

“Of course, you can,” I mumbled. My voice came out filled with sarcasm and I heard him sigh.

“Peach…” His voice trailed off pleadingly.

“Arden, this doesn’t make any sense!” I didn’t mean to snap but I did and I do not regret it. He was acting like he was going out of his mind and I wasn’t just going to stand by and watch him ruin himself without talking him out of it first.

“Peach, please.”

“This is me pleading with you to see things my way.” He begged me.

“I don’t have any other way to see it!” I yelled, teary-eyed.

“You are rushing into it!”

“You are doing it again!”

“You don’t want to feel it! You just don’t want to and I don’t understand…” My voice broke.

“I don’t understand if that’s such a bad thing. I don’t understand why you hate it so much.” I moved away from him, wiping my tears.NôvelDrama.Org holds text © rights.

“Grief is uncomfortable, alright? But it doesn’t mean you have to push it away. It will only cause more harm than good, Jesus Christ!” I shouted, throwing my hands up in the air.

“Would you rather I go alone?” He didn’t sound angry. He sounded so worn out and it pricked my heart a thousand times like splinters of wood were being hauled at it.

“What? No!” I debunked, sniffing.

“Then, come on.” He said softly, grabbing my coat. He took hold of my hand and helped me into it, adjusting it properly. Then, he bent slowly and kissed me ever so softly. My body, as though compelled to ease into his touch, grew lax immediately and I sighed.

I brushed the lapels of his coat and slipped my arm into his. I picked up my sling bag and we headed out of the house.

The drive to the Cemetery was long and unnerving. It left this twinge of helplessness in me. One I couldn’t control. The only form of spoken word that existed between us was our holding hands as he drove us to the cemetery. I had one of my hands entwined with his, occasionally squeezing it in reassurance as my eyes couldn’t bring themselves to stop darting to his side of the car.

His eyes were cold, detached and fixed ahead on the deserted road before us that led to the cemetery. The tall trees at the side of the road, although green, feel as though they were withering away. Not physically, but the feeling was so strong that it couldn’t be overridden.

He pulled the car to a halt, bringing me out of my thoughts, and I sighed. He got out of the car and slammed the door shut, spinning around to the other side to help me get the door. I grabbed the white rose bouquet that lay on my lap before letting myself out of the car.

“We are going to have to walk the rest.” He announced and I nodded at him with a light smile playing on my lips. He took my hand in his and led the way forward, our footsteps crunching every dead, dry leaf that littered the road in its wake.

I knew just behind these giant iron bars lies what would either break or make him, but I knew this wasn’t the time to chicken out. This was the time to be strong for him. He might act like he could pull it together right now, but I knew that the minute we set foot behind the intimidating black see-through gates, his mask was bound to crack.

And I was right.

The minute we stepped through the gate, his hand slipped out of mine and I heard him release a shaky breath. His breathing was punctured with shaky sighs. I blinked softly, allowing my tears to spill, and then I inhaled, not wanting any more of it to come off. I turned to him but my heart dropped to the pit of my stomach, seeing him clutching his chest so tightly. The flowers I was holding dropped to the floor with a loud thud.

He couldn’t breathe…

“Arden, baby,” I called him, cupping his face.

“Look at me,”

His breath only came out in harsh pants and wheezes.

“Baby, please look at me. Just focus on the sound of my voice, alright!” I told him, watching the helplessness in his grow more intense. His green eyes were filled with so many tears.

“Focus on my voice,”

“My voice,”

“Easy does it.”

“I am here,”

“Now, breathe, slowly,” I said softly and watched him take in some air, then slowly puffed it out. He did it a couple of times before he finally moved backwards, avoiding my eyes. I did the only thing I could think of. I ignored the fact that he didn’t want to look me in the eye because he just had a breakdown and pulled him into a hug.

“We can go back home if you are not ready, baby,” I said quietly, placing my head on his chest.

“I am ready. I am. Come on. They are just over there.” His voice was breaking but he was still struggling to pull it together. I retrieved the flowers from the floor.

It was like a whirlpool of melancholy.

There was a coldness that was associated with these surroundings. A coldness that made me feel so hollow. I was wearing a few thousand dollar coat, yet I could still feel the chilly air dancing on my skin, freezing me on the inside. The atmosphere was gloomy and morose. It left a dull, lingering ache somewhere in me that I couldn’t place and I could feel the part of me that was alive grow dimmer as we approached their headstones.

The smell of freshly dug soil still lingered in the air. So overwhelming and overpowering that it nearly overrode the numerous fragrances of the fresh flowers on each grave.

Every headstone in the cemetery had one or two bouquets on it. Each is carved in a unique colour. Mostly shades of Grey, black and white with inscriptions on them. The flowerbeds and flowers on each grave served as the only source for bursts of colour, which I found somewhat peaceful. I could spot a few family crypts from afar and a small chapel that stood proudly on its own.

“We are here.”

Broken, quiet and lifeless.

That was what my husband sounded like. He sounded so different from the man I knew and I feared that turning to look at him would break me more than I was already. I choked out a light sob when I spun around to face him. He stared at me with void, blood-shot eyes, his shoulders were sagged and detached, making him look so unhinged.

He was standing between two graves that were plastered with Grey tiles. The middle was covered with neatly trimmed grass and an array of white stones.

The first one read;

IN LOVING MEMORY OF

RODNEY VERNON GRAY.

A loving husband, father, brother and friend.

1965-2010.

Fuck…

The second one read;

IN LOVING MEMORY OF,

CORA MIRANDA GRAY.

A loving wife, mother, sister and a friend.

1968-2010.

A loud sob escaped my lips and I had to slap my palm over my mouth to control my sobs. Fuck, this was too much. I felt like I was about to lose my mind any moment now. He crouched softly, grabbing the flowers from me and placing them on their respective graves, a morose look descending upon his face.

“Uh…” He chuckled.

“Hi?” It came out more like a question, but then a bitter chuckle rolled out of his mouth afterwards.

“I can literally hear mom say ‘really?’ then snort afterwards.” He laughed lightly and I felt myself chuckle, tears spilling out of my eyes.

“God…I…don’t…fuck, I don’t know what to say to you two other than I am so sorry. I am so sorry, Mom, Dad. I am so sorry that you two had to die so that I could live. I am so sorry I couldn’t do anything to help. I am so sorry for not grieving you two. I am sorry for not coming back here regularly after we buried you…”

“I am sorry!” He broke into sobs, his legs giving him away and he dropped to the floor, placing his head on the edge of the gravestone.

“I didn’t know how to live without you two. You were my whole world and all of a sudden, you were just gone. I had to grow up so fast, learn a lot of things on my own and look out for Maria. I had to sacrifice my humanity, so I could look after the empire you left behind.” He choked out.

“It was hard!”

“It was so hard!” He yelled amidst tears. The heart-wrenching sound gutted me mercilessly.

“On some days, I was so angry at you two for leaving me all alone in this world because I didn’t even know how to deal with your loss and on other days, I was just numb. So numb.”

“I am so sorry I didn’t grow up to be the son you would be proud of.”

How wrong he was. I wanted to tell him how proud they must have been of him but my feet were just glued to the floor with tears clogging my throat.

“I am so sorry.”

“It took going off the deep end before I could finally confront the trauma your absence left behind. Grieving is so hard, Mom, Dad. It is very hard and God, these days, I can barely even feel my heart because it hurts too much. Too damn much. I am starting to feel that loss and it’s so consuming. It’s shattering me and there’s nothing I can do about it.” He admitted.

“I am a mess,”

“An absolute mess without you two.” He hiccuped, digging his fingers into his hair.

“God…you should see Maria now…” His voice trailed off, holding unabashed admiration and unconditional love for his younger sister even though they were currently not on talking terms.

“She has grown so much. So much that it used to terrify me, but as she grew older, I got to realise she doesn’t need me anymore. Not the way she used to, at least. Not going to lie, that’s a bruise on my Ego. She has the best husband a girl could ask for,” he chuckled.

“Andrew Armstrong. Yes. Andrew Armstrong. Her best friend since they were little. She married him.”

“And I am an uncle!” He sniffed, wiping his tears.

“I wish you had been here to see your first grandchild. Maria’s daughter. She has everyone wrapped around her fingers.” He lifted his eyes off the headstone, anchoring his gaze on me and I swallowed, wiping my palms on my dress. His lips curved in a smile and the dullness in his green eyes transcended into a glow that stole every ounce of the breath I had left in me.

“I brought someone,” His voice was reduced to a whisper. He didn’t have to say it. His eyes urged me forward and I found my feet moving over to where he stood. I crouched to his level and he took my hand in his, pressing a soft kiss on my ring finger.

“My Wife.”

“Dad, you know how I used to tell you that I wanted to get married to a woman like mom?” He directed the question at his late father even though he wasn’t there physically.

“I found her, Dad. I found her and I married her. It’s the best decision I have ever made in my nearly three decades of being alive. She’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.” He went on, his words stirring bubbles of happiness within me.

“Mom, Dad, Meet Ashley.” He turned to me with a teary smile. “Ashley, meet my parents.” He croaked.

“Jaxon didn’t have to tell me about you. I could see it in his eyes, in his actions and in his love for you that you two mean so much to him. I wish we had met under happier circumstances, so I could get to tell you thank you for giving me the very best of men. He’s not perfect but he is everything I have always wanted.” I said quietly, placing my head on his shoulder.

“I am trying to come to terms with your death and I am going to let you go. I am going to stop holding on to your death and start healing. I am going to start living in the present. I know it’s never going to be easy but you two will be with me every step of the way and that’s more than enough.” He promised and a sob elicited my mouth.

“I love you both.”

“Always and forever…”

I wrapped my arms around him and watched him break down into uncontrollable tears, bawling his eyes out without holding back. He fisted my dress in his hands and buried his head in my chest, crying his eyes out and letting them go.

I didn’t let him go.

I cried with him.

So much.