Her favorite flowers were lilies.
Calla lilies.
She had them in her wedding bouquet and had the flowers pressed so she could save it forever.
Sorcha was always doing things like that. Always creative in some way. She loved collecting things, and she loved the ballet. It was me who got her started on that figurine collection. I bought her one, and she got the rest.
I don’t know why I’m here again today.
At the cemetery again, standing by her grave, the confirmation that she’s gone and never coming back.
I don’t know why I think coming here would help me in any way.
I was here twice last month.
Once for my usual visit and then weeks ago for the memorial. Both times, I brought her flowers.
Today is no different.
I just arrived, and I see that someone’s been by since I was last here. I have a custodian who tends to the grave on a daily basis, but I can always tell when someone else has been by. Today, it looks like it was her mother. She always brings dahlias with a little blue ribbon tied around the bunch.
Like always, I’m stumped for words, and I feel selfish because I came here straight after speaking to Pa.
Emotions drove me back, and I feel like I need her.
“Hi, doll, me again,” I say and scan over the grave. “I really miss you. I miss everything about you, and I’m trying to be okay but making all kinds of shit decisions.”
The Bratva and Ava.
Those are the current thorns in my side.
I’ve possibly sent Gibbs on a wild goose chase, pissed off Pa because he thinks I’m going to mess up a good opportunity, and I have Ava at my house, still there for sex.
This week has been so up and down that I haven’t really thought of what to tell her in terms of her leaving.
There has to be an end date. There has to be now more than ever because she’s moving too far over the damn line.
Last night was absolute shit, and I was so mad at her again for the intrusion on my privacy. I allowed her to see my weakness and the thing that gets me good.
Love.
When I love, I love hard.
Despite knowing the fucked-up shit that can happen in my world, I foolishly thought I was above it. Even after Frankie was killed, I never really believed that my wife could be killed just like that. There one day and gone the next.
I never believed it could happen, not when I had the best security and the best of everything. I thought I’d be settled for life and couldn’t have been more wrong.
If there was any part of that, that was right, I wouldn’t be standing here today, and she wouldn’t be six feet under.
Marguerite is right. I need to move on. Sorcha wouldn’t want me like this. How do I move on though?
I look past the grave and scan over the rolling hills and on to the river before I make my way over to the gravestone and sit next to it.
I stay there until night falls, and I don’t move. The most I do is send a text to Marguerite to let her know I won’t be back tonight. I don’t lie, and I don’t tell the truth either.
I don’t want the fuss over me and anyone telling me I’m crazy. So, I don’t say more than I need to.
At some point, I fall asleep. I fall asleep next to my wife’s grave until bright sunlight stirs me along with the shimmer of a man standing before me.
The sunlight covers him, and I can’t quite see his face, but when he steps into the shadows, I see it’s Salvatore.
He’s the only person who would have known where to find me. Not that I’ve done this before. I used to come here every day when she was first buried, and it was him who always knew where I was. I never had to say.
Once again, though, he’s seeing me at my lowest, and I feel like shit.
He comes and sits next to me on the cleared path.
“Vin,” he says, looking at me with concern.
“Hi.”
“I thought you might be here. I was looking for you yesterday, and when Marguerite said you weren’t coming back, I figured this is where I’d find you.”
“Yeah...”
“You stay here all night?” he asks, and I nod.
I turn my gaze away from him and glance over to the nearest grave, which is just over the hill. I know what he’s thinking, and I don’t want to talk about it.
“She told me to make sure you didn’t work too hard,” he says with reflection.
“Marguerite knows I’m always working hard.” I shake my head.
“Not her. Sorcha,” he clarifies, and I turn to look back at him.
“She did?”
“Yeah. The thing about me is, I’m the guy who makes the promises. I promise to do various things. Most often, it’s to take care of others. Because our lives are so dangerous and you’re not exactly a calm person, Sorcha was always making me promise one thing or another.” He chuckles. “Make sure you eat, make sure you rest, make sure you don’t work too hard, make sure you allow me to take care of you. Now, that last one threw me, took me a minute, but I got her meaning. You’ve been in charge for a long time. Pa’s right-hand man. You’re busy taking care of everyone else and never actually allowing anyone really to do the same for you. She knew I was probably the only guy you’d allow to do that. So, here I am, Vin. Keeping my promise to my sister-in-law. Please allow me to.”
I bite into my bottom lip so hard I taste blood and hang my head.
“I don’t know what I can do, Salvatore. Everything’s a mess.”
“It’s kind of like that all the time. The mess things are, are just a different kind of shit. This situation with you is not about everything else. I’m just going to tell you straight that you can’t blame yourself for Sorcha’s death.”
I close my eyes for a few seconds. “I can’t help it.”
“Vin… the way that fucker came for us, everything was all set in motion to play out exactly the way he wanted it to. Everything. Stephanou wanted to send a message, and he did. He was hoping he’d get to kill you in the end, but that didn’t happen. There was nothing you would have been able to do to save her, because you were already doing everything.”
I’m listening, and I want to believe it. What he’s saying sounds like truth, but I don’t want to excuse my guilt if there was more I could have done to protect her.
“You can always do better,” I impart.
Salvatore shakes his head. “No, not when you do your best. You can’t do better when you’ve done your very best, and I watched you with her. You loved her with your soul, the same way you love your child with your soul. They are the same, and you did everything to protect them that day. If you’d been there, Stephanou would have killed you too. You’d be an additional dead body in that house because you would have been vastly outnumbered.”
He holds my gaze and strikes a nerve. I can believe whatever I want, but truth is truth, and he’s right.
Everything he’s saying is right.
“I just… wish it didn’t happen. I wish it never happened.”
“Me too. Me too, Vin. I can’t tell you how much I wish it never happened because we all loved her. We all did, and it was hard to have something as horrifying like her death happen and feel like you can never get justice.”
That’s it. He hit the fucking nail with the hammer. The reason why we can never get justice is that we can’t have what we want.
Her.
Nothing can bring her back.
Salvatore pulls in a breath and continues. “If I feel that way, I can imagine how you feel. What I know, though, is she was always happy, and I don’t think moving on means we should forget that. I think you need to remember how she loved you and how happy you made her. She’d want you to remember those things and live. Not like this, but as the guy she fell for.”
It’s like he’s echoing the words from the video.
I nod, and he stands, putting out his hand to help me up.
I take it, and he pulls me to stand.
He smiles at me. “Come, let’s go.”
I follow him when he takes a step away. I look back once to the grave and promise myself and her that the next time I visit, I’ll be better.
That means I need to try and find myself.
Try to move forward.
Just try…