5. Sebastian
CHAPTER 5
sebastian
C arlos’s funeral was held on a grey November afternoon, the sky swollen with unshed rain. Rows of black-clad mourners sat beneath a tent at the cemetery, their hushed murmurs blending with the soft rustling of wind through the trees. Maxine was sitting in the front row, her hands clenched tightly around the edges of her coat, looking as if her heart had been carved out and left hollow.
Her mother, Ciara, was seated beside her, her face an unreadable mask. My dad was on Ciara's other side, his hand resting lightly on her knee, a gesture that seemed more possessive than comforting. To Maxine, Ciara’s behavior was infuriating—that cold detachment. She had barely shed a tear since they received the news of her husband’s death. Maxine had cried enough for them both, though, but now she appeared to have cried her last tears.
Brooklyn, Jace, and I took seats on her other side, hoping our presence would offer a small comfort in the middle of her suffocating grief. I was sitting next to her. I couldn't have been anywhere but be beside her; I needed to be close to her. My hand hovered briefly over hers before pulling back, unsure what she needed. I just wanted to lend her my strength, to help anchor her to the earth. Her friends Melissa, Tabby, and Marla were sitting in the pew behind us, lending their love and support. They thought of Carlos as their dad, too. He always took them on trips and had movie nights. They loved him too.
The pastor’s voice droned on, speaking of Carlos as a loving father, a devoted husband, and a man of integrity. Maxine’s fists tightened. How many of these people really knew her father? How many of them knew how he’d stayed up late helping her with science projects, or how he’d sing off-key to the radio just to make her laugh? She glanced at Ciara, her mother’s expression remaining stoic, and a bitter thought flickered in my mind. Did she love him at all?
When it was time to say their final goodbyes, Maxine stood frozen at the edge of the grave, staring at the polished oak coffin being lowered into the ground. Her fingers tightly clenched the locket around her neck, the one Carlos had given her for her sixteenth birthday.
A sob broke free from her throat, and she turned away, unable to watch any longer. She stumbled a few steps back, her eyes watery with tears. She needed someone to be there for her, and watching as she stood there by herself made something in my chest tighten protectively. I tapped her shoulder, and as she turned to me, I said, "I've got you."
When she looked at me, the raw emotion in her eyes was almost too much for me to bear. “He’s gone,” she whispered. “I don’t know how to do this without him.” I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close.
“You don’t have to. We’re here for you. I’m here for you.”
Her sobs shook her small frame as she clung to me and buried her face in my shoulder. For a moment, the world around us fell away—the mourners, the grave, even the bitter sting of Ciara’s indifference. There was only my steady presence, grounding her when everything else felt lost.
“Thank you,” she murmured against my shirt.
I pulled back slightly, just enough to look into her eyes. “Anytime, Max. Anytime.”
As the ceremony came to an end, and the crowd began to disperse, Maxine stayed by the grave, her hand resting on the freshly turned earth. I lingered nearby, giving her space but refusing to leave her alone. And when she finally rose, her knees trembling, I was right there to steady her, my hand slipping into hers as we walked away together.