36. Fae
FAE
The sky is crying today and so are the rest of us.
Some of the tears are real. Some of them are not.
I stand beside Roman at the front of the congregation, my black heels sinking into the wet earth beneath us.
Rainwater trickles from the edge of umbrellas whilst cold wind tears through the cemetery hard enough to make the trees surrounding the church groan overhead.
Next to me, Riggs blows his nose loudly into a handkerchief as Robyn lets out another broken sob.
I lean slightly into Roman as I feel his body shiver beside me.
The umbrella above our heads shields us from the worst of the April storm, but the cold still clings to our bones.
Roman hasn’t said a single word since we arrived.
My fingers tighten around the white rose in my hand as my eyes drift across the hidden cemetery behind the church.
Most people don’t even know this place exists.
Thick stone walls hide it from the outside world whilst towering trees curl around the edges like they’re protecting the secrets buried beneath the ground.
Founder graves stretch in neat rows across the hill.
Polished marble. Expensive engravings. Generations of monsters laid side by side beneath crosses and scripture like God would somehow welcome men like them through Heaven’s gates.
Roman’s family plot sits near the back beneath a huge stone angel stained dark from years of rain. His grandparents are buried there. His great-grandparents too. And now Fiona will be buried here beside them instead of beside her husband.
Longstaff was buried yesterday morning in a private Founder ceremony that Roman refused to attend.
Even after everything he’d done, The Company still insisted he deserved his place amongst the Founders.
It is just further proof that bloodlines matter more than morality ever will to these people.
Roman hates it. Not just because his father is buried here, but because originally they intended to place him beside Fiona like they belonged together, even after he killed her.
But Roman shut that down and now Longstaff rests several rows away instead.
Alone.
I still don’t know if Roman’s fully happy Fiona is being buried here considering she died inside this church, but sometimes when you belong to The Company there isn’t really such a thing as choice. Even in death they still decide where you go.
The priest finally steps forward near the grave, his voice quiet beneath the sound of rainfall.
“We gather here today to honour the life of Fiona Longstaff. A beloved mother, friend and guiding light to many.”
My throat tightens and I bite the inside of my lip.
Describing Fiona as a guiding light feels far too simple.
She was soft, but never weak. She loved with her entire chest and protected people with the same brutality men like Longstaff used to destroy them.
She was the kind of woman who would hold you whilst you cried and throw her head back with joy when you laughed.
Fiona was a mother to many of us in this cemetery.
And somehow, she was still so much more than that.
“She devoted her life to protecting those she cared for,” the priest continues gently. “Her strength, loyalty and kindness touched more lives than she will ever truly know.”
Roman’s fingers twitch beside mine before finally curling tightly around my hand.
The pressure hurts but I hold onto him anyway as tears stream down my face.
I think the cruellest part about losing someone is that the world doesn’t end when they do.
The sun still rises. People still laugh.
Somewhere else somebody is probably falling in love for the first time whilst we stand here learning how to survive without hers.
And I don’t know how to do this without her.
I don’t know how people survive this.
“Please join me whilst we lower the coffin with the hymn of The Company,” the priest says and my whole body tenses as I look at the crowd, “as we sing, you are welcome to step forward and lay your roses with Fiona as a final act of love.”
God, Fiona would hate this.
Or maybe she’d laugh at the irony of it all.
The congregation slowly begins singing ‘Abide With Me by Murray Gold’ and the sound wraps itself around the cemetery so heavily it almost feels alive.
People begin stepping toward the grave one by one.
The Company usually buries their dead with red roses but Roman refused.
They claim it symbolises loyalty and sacrifice, but everybody knows it’s really about blood.
Blood follows you everywhere in this godforsaken society.
It carries you through life. It stains your hands in death.
And eventually, it follows you into the grave too.
The thing is, Fiona loved roses more than anyone I’ve ever met.
Thousands of them stretch across acres of her garden every summer in every colour imaginable.
She would have loved the red roses because to her they symbolised love.
For Roman though, they were a reminder of his dad.
Longstaff used to buy them for her constantly and Roman wouldn’t let that man touch another part of Fiona’s life.
Or her death.
When everyone finishes throwing their roses down with soft thuds against the coffin, it becomes time for the immediate family. Roman wanted it to be our group and our group only. I had to fight the Founders relentlessly over it for the last week, but in the end we won.
Victor goes first. He leans down and presses a kiss against the coffin before laying his rose gently on top.
Then Atlas and Riggs walk forward together.
Atlas practically has to hold Riggs upright as his legs stumble beneath him when they reach the grave.
The sound that leaves Riggs barely even sounds human and the pain in his cry will haunt me for the rest of my life.
Felix goes next, holding tightly onto Robyn, but the second she reaches Fiona’s coffin she falls apart completely.
She throws herself forward with a wail so full of grief it cuts straight through my chest. The rain is the only thing loud enough to drown it out and beside me I feel Roman tense violently.
I slide my hand tighter around his and rub slow circles against his knuckles whilst my own vision starts blurring with tears.
Then it’s our turn.
Roman and I walk forward hand in hand as my chest feels like it’s caving in on itself.
The pain sits open and raw inside me. Halfway toward the grave the baby kicks hard enough to make me stumble and my heels sink deeper into the wet mud beneath us.
I lower myself down in front of the coffin and my dress immediately soaks through at the knees.
I clutch the rose tighter between trembling fingers as I stare at the polished wood.
The truth of what is in front of me doesn’t feel real.
Fiona is in there.
My Fi is gone.
She is gone because of me.
“I don’t know how to do this without you,” I whisper. “I genuinely don’t.”
My fingers press shakily against the coffin lid like if I touch it hard enough maybe she’ll answer me back.
“You were supposed to be here for all of this. You were supposed to meet him. You were supposed to hold him and spoil him and tell me I’m doing the best I can before taking over anyway because that’s what you always did.
You were supposed to bake me a cake, Fi, how can we have a wedding without your cake? I… I can’t, I don’t want to.”
I cover my face as I scream out in pain. Rainwater slides down my face, mixing with the tears as I feel Roman move behind me and rub my shoulders as they shake. My hand moves instinctively to my stomach.
“It’s a boy,” I choke out with a watery laugh. “Can you believe that? Roman keeps pretending he’s calm about it but he’s already obsessed with him.”
A sound breaks beside me. I look up instantly and my heart physically cracks at the sight of Roman.
Tears stream openly down his face as he stares at his mum’s coffin like he’s trying not to completely fall apart in front of everybody.
Then the first full sob leaves him and it’s so full of pain I bow my head because it feels too intimate to witness.
“I’ll look after your boys,” I whisper shakily against the coffin. “I promise. I’ll love them enough for both of us. I’ll love Roman through this and I’ll make sure your grandson grows up knowing exactly who you were.”
“I’m sorry,” I sob quietly as my throat burns. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you.”
Silence stretches around us except for the rain and the quiet hymn echoing through the cemetery. I stand, latching onto Roman’s hand before looking up at him.
“Would you like a moment alone?” I whisper and he glances at me.
“Please,” he croaks out and I nod.
I press one final kiss against my fingertips and lay them softly against the coffin.
Then I force myself to turn and walk away from the grave on shaking legs.
Felix catches my eye from across the cemetery instantly before he walks to meet me and escort me back under the shelter.
I turn around and take in Roman as the rain runs down the sharp lines of his face and he stares at the coffin below.
Slowly, the congregation begins drifting away from the grave in quiet clusters.
Umbrellas disappear through the rain whilst the hymn fades into nothing more than soft murmurs and footsteps against wet earth.
Some people linger long enough to offer condolences to Roman from a distance, but nobody dares interrupt him whilst he stands over Fiona’s coffin.