Chapter 29 Remembrance
VICTORIA
“Victoria!" Someone screamed my name and jerked me out of my thoughts.
My aunt gripped Stella's trembling shoulders and turned around, pleading with her eyes.
“I'll take her, hmm?" She whispered and rubbed my arm before dragging Stella off. She was lucky I hadn't displayed the thoughts going on in my head before my aunt intervened. She would have been in the hospital and not the graveyard.
I sighed and walked back into the car, ignoring the eyes of my brothers and sister-in-laws that burned into my back.
“I'm sorry she said that," Connor muttered when I slammed the door shut.
“It's nothing, I overreacted,” I chuckled, trying to calm the anger burning in me.
Connor switched the engine to life and drove out of the garage, trailing after my father's car.
Stella's taunts haunted me, causing the rage bubbling in me to increase. It wasn't my fault that we didn't have children, nor was it his fault. Perhaps it was just fate’s way of separating our unmatched souls for good, with nothing to ever bring us close together ever again.
I didn't care about children, but having everyone mock me with that always left a time bomb in me.
It made it feel like I was cursed with barrenness.
“Should we get flowers on the way?" He asked as he neared a flower shop.
I turned away from the window and dropped my hand from my chin, sighing.
“Yes,” I muttered.
He stopped the car in front of the shop and unclipped his seatbelt.
“I'll get the flowers," I quickly said when he reached for the door.
“Okay," he replied and flashed me a smile.
I pushed the door open and got out, then trudged into the flower shop.
I wished I could clear my head inside that shop and forget about the troubles that surrounded me.
It was my mother's remembrance, and that should be the only thing on my mind, even though I avoided that, too.
Thinking about the memories we shared would only bring tears to my eyes and make me more miserable.
And the flower shop fulfilled this.
The moment the smell of flowers swept across my nose, the nostalgia kicked in.
My mother's smile, laughter, her comforting words whenever I got it wrong, her lullabies that put me to sleep, her eyes, scent, and that cold ghostly face…
“How may I help you?"
I jumped, almost crashing into a flowerpot close to the door.
The woman standing before me freaked out and drew me away from the flower pot, then leaned over and inspected it. She was more concerned about her little flowers than me. I wasn't expecting otherwise.
A sigh escaped her lips when she realized that her flowers weren't hurt.
“Are you here to pick up a flower for your lost one?" The woman finally acknowledged my presence.
I nodded my head, too broken to speak.
“Ah! I get that reaction a lot from people. Who did you lose?" She waved for me to follow her as she walked towards a corner.
“My mother," my voice trembled as I spoke.
She paused and turned around, his eyes widening with sympathy.
“Oh my dear," she mumbled and walked towards me, then wrapped her hands around my slumped shoulders.
“It hurts to lose a mother," she added and squeezed my shoulders.
I forced a smile on my face and nodded.
The woman's words were making it worse. The tears that I had pushed down finally forced their way up and clouded my eyes.
“I would love some roses," I blurted out in a shaking voice.
The woman sighed and rubbed my arm, then took my hand and led me to the section for sweet-smelling roses of different colors.
“This is the corner for the best roses," she said as she bent down and inspected the flowers.
My eyes caught the blue flowers, and I smiled in satisfaction.
“This is my mom's favorite," I pointed at the blue roses.
She hummed and pulled out the roses.
“Can I get a bouquet of it?" I asked, and she nodded.
"I also want the red rose and…" I paused when I saw the black rose.
My mom's words about it came rushing into my head, and I clenched my fist. I gulped hard and looked away. It would be stupid to take a black rose to the graveyard, especially since my family was sensitive to it.
I sighed and turned away, heading to the counter to pay for the flowers.
After packaging the flowers, she handed them to me and waved her hand to the door.
“Tell your mom I said hello," she said as I headed to the door.
I chuckled amidst the tears and reached for the door handle.
I paused and turned to the lady.
“Get the pretty flowers out of here, it might not survive the next grieved visitor,” I warned, and the smile on her face disappeared.
I was sure she cursed at me when I headed out.
I got into the car, smiling. Connor stared at me for a moment in confusion before driving off.
I kept thinking about my mother, going through the locked-up memories of her. The good ones only.
When we reached the graveyard, the rest of our family members were already there, including some of our cousins, aunts, and uncles.
This was the only time we gathered together and pushed away the enmity that existed between us.
It was funny that the only thing capable of uniting the enemies of the Alexander family together was my mom. Even in death, she still kept the family together.
My throat knotted at that thought, and I gripped the bouquet in my hand tightly.
“Victoria! Connor!" One of our cousins waved from where they stood.
Connor waved back, but I didn't.
My face remained blank and cold, my eyes unwelcoming.
My gaze darted to the scattered tombstones of my dead family members a few distances away from us, and my feet froze when they fell on my mom's name.
Elena Alexander was engraved in bold letters on the tombstone.
“Victoria, put yourself together," Connor whispered.
I took a deep breath and continued my walk to where the rest of my family members were.
“Victoria, when did you come back?"
"That shirt looks good on you. How much did you get it?”
“I thought you wouldn't return!”
“Is it true you are joining the CID again?”
I closed my eyes, and my hand began to shake from the several questions that were thrown at me. What pained me most was that none of them concerned my mother.
It felt like they were just there because they had a duty to fulfill.
My father must have gone off to talk with his brothers.
I shuddered and looked away, hoping I could escape from these people and only focus on my mother.
The moment I looked away to the far end of the field, my eyes caught a figure clad in black with a mask over his face.
My heart leaped, the flower dropped from my hand, and I staggered back.
The outfit and behavior reminded me of one person, but what triggered me more was the bouquet in his hand.
A bouquet of black roses!
I gasped loudly and didn't think twice before running off towards him, pushing everyone out of the way.
Shouts from my family members filled the air, and most of them called after me, but I didn't care. The man, on seeing that I was coming after him, spun around and ran off.
I knew who it was. It wasn't the killer, it was someone else. It was the person who made me choose to become a detective in the first place.