Maddy
MADDY
T he moment I step into the small church, the weight of it all crashes over me again.
The large photos of Mum and Isla feel like a physical blow, knocking the breath out of my lungs.
My feet falter, and I instinctively grab Mihai’s arm to steady myself. He’s solid and steady, murmuring something low in Romanian that I can’t quite make out over the roaring in my ears.
But his voice and scent aren’t enough to keep me upright this time. My gaze drifts to the photos again, and the sight burns into my chest, spreading outwards until I can’t bear it anymore.
Before I can even process what I’m doing, my eyes catch movement off to the side. Connor is standing near one of the pillars, his broad shoulders stiff but his expression soft when he looks my way. His green eyes meet mine, and he gives me a small, gentle wave. It’s such a simple gesture, but it shatters something inside me.
I let go of Mihai without a word and I rush to Connor. My boots scuff against the old stone floor, and the sound echoes in the quiet church. He straightens up immediately, his brows drawing together in concern. He catches me the second I reach him, pulling me into his arms like he’s been waiting for it.
“Hey, darlin’,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing as his arms come around me. He sighs deeply, his chin brushing against the top of my head. “It’s alright. I’ve got you.”
I sob into his chest, his solid presence comforting in a way I can’t explain. Connor doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move, just holds me steady, rubbing soothing circles on my back and whispering soft words of comfort I don’t even register.
I don’t know when it happened, maybe it was because we became closer when I couldn’t speak, but having Connor here means so much more to me than I ever thought it would. He became like my big brother in those silent weeks, and I can never repay him for the kindness he showed me.
He didn’t have to be here today, not with what’s going on, but he’s here. For me.
After a moment, he gently pulls back and looks down at me, brushing some hair from my face. “C’mon, beautiful,” he says, his Irish lilt soft and comforting. “Let’s get you seated, yeah?”
I nod weakly, and he leads me gently toward the front pew, where Mihai is waiting, his eyes following me the entire way. Connor eases me into the pew, sitting down on one side of me, and Mihai takes the other. Their presence feels like a shield on either side, holding me together when I feel like I’m falling apart.
The service begins, the priest’s voice calm and steady, but I can barely hear the words. My mind drifts, flashes of memories playing behind my eyes—my mother’s warm laughter, my sister’s cheeky grin, the way they always made me feel like I was part of something whole, something unbreakable.
And now they’re gone.
I blink rapidly, trying to clear the images from my mind, but they just keep coming. I feel Mihai squeeze my hand, his silent reminder that I’m not alone. Connor takes the other and leans in slightly, murmuring something I can’t quite catch, but his tone is comforting, like he’s trying to shield me from the worst of it.
I sit there, trapped between grief and guilt, feeling like I’ll never be able to breathe normally again.
A fter the service, we step outside, and Mihai keeps me close as we head to the private mausoleum behind the church. It’s secluded, surrounded by tall trees that cast long shadows over the graves.
They wouldn’t want me to carry this guilt. I know that. But knowing it and feeling it are two entirely different things.
Mihai pauses as we approach, his voice low. “This is my family’s tomb,” he says, glancing at me. “It’s where we lay our own to rest.”
I don’t know what to say to that. The significance hits me harder than I expect. I glance at him, my throat tight, and nod, unable to find the words.
We reach the stone mausoleum cloaked in ivy, I feel the dam inside me begin to crack again. Mihai’s family tomb is imposing, carved with intricate details that speak of generations past, their lives now reduced to names etched in marble.
It feels cold and suffocatingly final.
I bite down on my lip, trying to keep the tears at bay, but my resolve crumbles when I walk inside and see the delicate flowers Mihai must have brought—white lilies, my mother’s favorite.
“,” Mihai says softly, his hand still firm against my back. “Take your time.”
I swallow hard as my eyes land on the empty spaces prepared for my mother and sister. Their names are already engraved, a cruel reminder of the finality of it all. My legs feel like lead as I move closer, my breath catching in my throat.
Behind me, Mihai moves closer. I feel his warmth before I feel his touch, his arms wrapping around me from behind, holding me together when I’m falling apart.
“They loved you,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against my hair. “They still do. This isn’t goodbye, . This is a place where you can come to feel them, to remember them.”
His words unravel me further, and I clutch his arm, grounding myself in his strength. “I don’t know how to do this,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “How do I let them go?”
He shifts, turning me gently to face him, his hands firm on my shoulders. “You don’t,” he says, his voice low but certain. “You carry them with you. Always. In the things they loved, in the person you’ve become because of them. This isn’t about letting go—it’s about finding a way to live with the loss.”
I swallow the knot in my throat and nod as my mother’s face flashes before my eyes, then my sister’s. The memories hit me like a wave—the sound of my mother laughing as she twirled around the kitchen, my sister’s tiny hand clutching mine as we crossed the street, the way their smiles lit up the darkest days.
Without realizing it, I start to hum. The melody of one of my mother’s favorite songs spills from my lips, shaky and broken, but insistent.
Broken Halos by Chris Stapleton.
The words come unbidden, my voice cracking as I sing. My mother loved this song. She used to play it and sway gently with my sister in her arms. The memory is bittersweet, but right now, it feels like the only way I can let them go.
The mausoleum goes silent. Even Mihai stops breathing beside me. His hand tightens on my back, a small, grounding pressure that keeps me from falling apart completely.
My knees give out, and I collapse onto the cold stone floor, my hands gripping the edge of the bench beneath the plaques. The tears spill freely now, unstoppable, as my heart breaks all over again.
Mihai is next to me in an instant, dropping down beside me. His strong arms wrap around me, pulling me into his chest as I cry with everything I have. His chin rests against the top of my head, and I feel his breath, warm and steady, against my hair.
“They’re at peace now, . You’re giving them the goodbye they deserve,” he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. His lips brush my temple, soft and comforting. “You’re so strong for doing this, baby.”
But I don’t feel strong, not as I crumble into his chest, my sobs muffled against his shirt. He doesn’t rush me, doesn’t try to fill the silence with platitudes. He just holds me, his steady presence anchoring me as I pour out every ounce of grief I’ve been carrying.
When the tears finally subside, leaving me drained and hollow, he pulls back just enough to tilt my face up to his. His thumb brushes away the tears on my cheek, and his dark eyes meet mine with a warmth that feels like sunlight breaking through the clouds.
“You did good, baby,” he murmurs, his voice soft but firm. “I’m so proud of you.”
His words make something in my chest loosen, and I take a shaky breath, the air filling my lungs a little easier now.
“I don’t feel like I did anything,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.
“You’re here,” he says simply as he pulls me close again. “That’s enough.”
As the attendants move carefully to place the urns into their resting places, Mihai keeps his arms around me. The finality of it all hits me again, and I whisper, “I’m sorry.”
Mihai pulls back just enough to look at me, his dark eyes fierce. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for this,” he says, his voice firm. “You’ve carried enough guilt. It’s time to let it go.”
I nod, my throat too tight to speak, and lean into him, letting his warmth seep into me. I feel raw, like an exposed nerve, but also feel lighter. The weight isn’t gone, but it’s shifted, just enough to let me breathe.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice hoarse.
He shakes his head, brushing a stray tear from my cheek. “Don’t thank me. This is where I’m supposed to be—right here, with you. I’m just glad you’re letting yourself feel this.”
His words settle over me, and I lean into him, letting his strength hold me up when I feel like crumbling. The attendants finish their work and step back respectfully, leaving us alone in the stillness of the mausoleum.
Mihai presses a kiss to my temple, his lips lingering there. “It’s time,” he says gently, his voice steady. “Let’s say goodbye.”
I nod, my heart heavy as we get to our feet. His hand never leaves mine as we approach the plaques. I run my fingers over their engraved names, my fingers trembling.
“Goodbye Mum. Goodbye Isla,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “I love you both. Always.”
Mihai stays silent, his presence a comforting anchor as I take the final step of letting them go. When we step back into the sunlight outside, I feel lighter, like a small part of the weight I’ve been carrying has been lifted.
The others are quiet as we walk. I catch a glimpse of Connor standing at the entrance, his hands clenched at his sides. He gives me a small nod, his face soft with understanding. Marina, Cat and Chiara are further back, their expressions solemn. Even Nikolai, standing off to the side, looks subdued.
I glance back at the tomb one last time, the words of the song still echoing in my mind. It’s not goodbye, not really. It’s a promise to carry them with me, to let their love be a part of me instead of my guilt.
We walk further to the SUV at the edge of the gravel path, its engine purring softly as everyone starts preparing to leave. Mihai leaves my side for a second, he mentioned confirming that we’ll all meet back at his penthouse. I was such a mess and couldn’t even thank them all for being here.
I stand off to the side, fiddling with the hem of my coat, when the soft crunch of boots on gravel draws my attention, and I look up to see Connor walking toward me.
His hands shoved into his pockets. His usual playful demeanor is replaced with something gentler, more thoughtful. When he reaches me, he doesn’t say anything at first, just pulls me into a hug.
I sink into his embrace, letting his warmth and strength ground me. It’s different from Mihai’s—Connor’s hugs feel like he’s trying to absorb some of my pain into himself.
“Hey, darlin’,” he murmurs, his voice soft. “You did good today.”
I pull back slightly, looking up at him. “Thank you, Connor. For earlier, I mean. I needed that.”
He gives me a small smile, his green eyes filled with a warmth that makes my chest ache. “No need to thank me, lass. I’m glad I could be there for you. It… meant a lot to me, too.”
I nod, chewing on my bottom lip. “How are you, though? I’ve been worried about you.”
Connor shrugs, his hands still in his pockets. “Things could be better, but I’m workin’ on it. Takes time, you know?”
I reach out, touching his arm lightly. “Just… don’t let it eat you alive, okay? I know it’s not my place, but I don’t want to see it change who you are. You’re a good man, Connor Cunningham. Don’t lose that.”
His eyes soften, and he tilts his head, studying me for a moment before a small smirk curves his lips. “You’ve got a way with words, you know that? Alright, just for you, darlin’. I’ll work on it.”
I grin, feeling a flicker of hope. “Good. Because I still want to meet your dogs one day.”
At this, he throws his head back and laughs. “Ah, Bella and Whiskey. You’re usin’ them to keep me in line, are you?”
“Whatever works,” I say, a small smile tugging at my lips.
Connor leans down, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll work on it, I promise. Can’t be letting you down, now, can I?”
The words make my chest tighten, and I step back, giving him a grateful smile. As he turns to walk toward one of the SUVs, I feel Mihai’s presence behind me before I even hear him. His hand settles on my lower back, grounding me in that quiet, steady way of his.
“Ready?” he asks, his voice low and warm.
I nod, and we walk to our vehicle together. The ride to the penthouse is quiet at first, the hum of the engine filling the space between us. I glance at Mihai out of the corner of my eye, his profile sharp and unreadable as he scrolls through his phone.
Suddenly, his phone buzzes, and he answers it immediately, his tone clipped. “Da? Ce s-a ?ntamplat?”
I don’t catch every word, but the tension in his voice and the quickness of his Romanian let me know something’s wrong. His grip on the phone tightens, and his brows knit together.
“Am ?n?eles. Vom fi acolo ?n curand.”
When he hangs up, his jaw is set, and there’s a new urgency in his movements. “We need to get back to the estate,” he says, looking at the driver. “Now.”
The shift in his demeanor sends a jolt of worry through me. “Mihai, what’s wrong?”
He shakes his head, his hand resting on my knee briefly. “Nothing for you to worry about right now, baby. I just need to handle something.”
The SUV speeds up, and I clutch the edge of the seat, my heart racing. The rest of the drive blurs into a haze of tension and unspoken questions. By the time we pull into the long, winding driveway of the Vasile estate, Mihai’s phone has buzzed twice more, each call answered in the same sharp, controlled tone.
Mihai is out of the car before it even comes to a full stop. He circles around to my side, opening the door for me, but his usual calm demeanor is replaced by something more urgent.
“Stay close,” he says, his hand on my back as he guides me inside.
The estate feels cold, the opulent halls eerily quiet. Mihai leads me to a sitting room, his hand lingering on my arm as he looks at me with an intensity that makes my chest tighten.
“I need to take care of something,” he says, his voice low. “Promise me you’ll stay here until I get back.”
I nod, sensing that whatever is happening is bigger than either of us. “I promise.”
He leans down, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead before disappearing down the hall. I watch him go, my stomach twisting with unease.
Whatever’s happening, it’s big. And I can only hope that when he comes back, it won’t be with more weight on his already burdened shoulders.