Chapter 51
Lily
The week that followed didn’t seem real.
I managed to make the arrangements for a cremation and a small ceremony. After everything Dean had done for me, it was the least I could do.
He had completely closed most people out except for Seb, Kira, and me, but even then, he had barely spoken a word or slept since Saturday.
Everything happened on that Saturday.
What he did at Castello di Vetro was careless, but I refused to reprimand him when he was doing it to himself already.
The worry about retaliation lingered in the corners of my mind. An entire week had gone by, and there wasn’t a single indication that the Gimello triplets would want revenge for what happened in their club. And that made me nervous. Why hadn’t they reacted yet?
There was a moment on Monday night, as I approached my bedroom window to close the blinds before bed, when I spotted something in the dark one-way street below. A figure, but it was hard to tell when it was hidden in the shadows.
I called Dad about it, and he came to check himself, but found nothing.
Maybe I imagined it. I was emotionally drained, so maybe my mind was playing tricks on me. As a precaution, and under strict orders from my father, we stayed inside the apartment. Not that we had much motivation to step outside. The world was a little darker without Sofia in it.
I didn’t even want to think about the arrests that would happen in the following week.
I think the one thing that gave us a brief pause was Bella, Sofia’s tiny but resilient dog. She wore a small, blue cast on her front leg and needed regular treatment for a small burn on her ear, but she provided a sliver of happiness and comfort when it was hard to find.
At first, Dean wanted nothing to do with her. It wasn’t done out of hate but simply because it hurt. Bella was a reminder, yet it was Dean who said he would keep her when his old neighbors asked if they could take her.
As I got ready for the funeral this afternoon, smoothing out the creases in my black, knee-length dress while keeping my emotions in check, Dean sat on the couch with Bella in his lap.
He tickled her tummy with a vague stare in his tired eyes and a shadow of a smile on his lips.
He wore an all-black suit and had a pair of sunglasses on hand.
Both were brand new since most of what he owned, apart from anything he left in my room, was destroyed in the fire.
I watched the time, counting down the seconds until eventually it was time to go. Saying the words felt like the hardest thing to do.
“Dean?” I approached him, hesitant to say the rest. I didn’t want to disrupt this rare moment of peace. “It’s time.”
I didn’t know that Sofia’s favorite color was purple or that she loved lavender. They were details about her I would’ve learned in the future if she were still alive. Instead, I heard about it from Dean as we organized the initial preparations for her funeral.
Touches of lavender and purple decorated the coffin, the seats, and the interior of the small crematorium chapel.
Everyone in attendance was asked to wear something purple amongst their black attire.
Kira had woven friendship bracelets for this reason, in all shades of purple, and gave one to anyone who arrived without a purple item.
Dean wore one too and didn’t take his eyes off it as the funeral commenced, keeping his head bowed in the front row as the celebrant addressed the room.
What broke my heart the most was that he was the only family member there amongst a sea of friends.
In a way, Sofia had rebuilt her own large family, surrounding herself with love and happiness after what she went through.
I threaded my arm through the crook of Dean’s elbow as the eulogies began.
Anyone was invited to speak and share stories that celebrated Sofia’s life, and there were plenty. One was about how she saved a young couple's wedding from disaster when the caterer fell through. Another was about the bonds of friendship Sofia nurtured with anyone who got to know her.
Once the last person left the lectern, the celebrant asked if there was anyone else who wanted to speak.
With my heart racing, I stood and approached the lectern as I unfolded the eulogy I had tucked into the pocket of my dress.
My choice to speak came as a surprise to Dean, but the appreciation and relief was evident in his expression. It was the first time he had looked up since the funeral began.
“Sofia was a survivor,” I said. “She was a strong, independent woman who faced adversity head-on and managed to remain relentlessly positive every time… I didn’t know her for as long as most of you here today, but from the moment I met her, she treated me like we had been friends for years.
She welcomed me into the Moretto family without hesitation; with open arms, food, and an ear to listen.
” I offered Dean a small smile. He returned it with tears in his eyes, in no way helping my effort to keep myself from crying.
I huffed a quiet laugh and inhaled shakily as I looked back at my notes.
“I think the easiest way to see the effects of her big heart and undying love, and loyalty is to look at her son. The morals he lives by are all a reflection of the woman who raised him.” Another look at Dean told me the message was received.
He wasn’t to blame for any of this and needed to know that.
Sofia wouldn’t want him to blame himself for any of it.
“Sofia, I will miss you.” My hands shook as I folded up the eulogy notes and walked quietly back to my seat. I managed to keep it together, taking a deep breath to still my nerves as Dean took my hand.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
The funeral drew to a peaceful end with the celebrant instructing everyone that there would be food and warm beverages in the other room. Slowly, the guests left the chapel a row at a time, heading for the back doors until eventually the chapel was empty save for Dean and me.
I stepped into the aisle, expecting Dean to follow, but he approached the coffin and placed his hand on the lid. A tear streaked down his cheek, but his composure was impenetrable. He unclenched his jaw and spoke softly.
“Pò ripusari ora.”
When the day was over, and everyone began to head out, I approached the funeral director and celebrant to thank them, but also to discuss what happened next. It was the kind of conversation that didn’t seem real — discussing how long a cremation took and when to pick up the ashes.
They gave me a time frame of three days. I thanked them again, and then I walked away like I still hadn’t stepped back into reality yet. Death was one thing, but the preparations afterwards were just as hard. It cemented that she was never coming back.
Outside, the sky was overcast, and there was a wintery chill in the air. I rubbed my arms as I scanned the area for Dean. Friends of Sofia’s still lingered for a chat, but it was the short line of people to the left of the door by a garden of roses that helped me spot him.
He was curtly accepting condolences from the guests as they left, keeping his hands buried in his pockets. His face was drawn, and his eyes were hollow, but he managed several small smiles of thanks if someone patted his shoulder or pulled him into a hug.
Once each person had moved on, he would press his lips together and clench his jaw before the next person came along.
He wanted out.
I picked up my pace, also accepting several compliments about the service as I went. I smiled politely at them but kept going until Kira approached. I slowed for her.
“Hey,” I breathed.
“Hi.” She pulled me into a hug immediately.
“That was harder than I thought,” I muttered over her shoulder.
I spotted Seb approaching Dean. The arrival of his friend caused his shoulders to relax.
“You handled it like a boss,” Kira said, pulling back. “I would’ve been a mess.”
“I almost was.” I lifted my hands to show her the shake that remained.
She half smiled out of sympathy. “I’m still proud of you. Also,” she took my hands, “Seb and I might avoid the apartment for a while to give you guys some space.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, of course. Funerals are overwhelming, and we figured Dean would like the quiet right now.”
“Thank you.”
We approached the guys as they waited by the rose bush. Kira offered Dean a hug that was the first of few he was happy to accept, and then our friends left for Seb’s bike, hand in hand.
As we watched them leave, Dean slid his hands back into the pockets of his pants, only to withdraw something from within the pocket.
A single cigarette.
He looked at it for a long time, contemplating before he put it between his lips and retrieved his lighter too.
I could’ve stopped him, but he deserved this one small release.
Who was I to judge when I had used sex to overcome trauma?
His hands shook as he tried over and over to light the end of his cigarette, his frustration growing by the second.
I moved in front of him and gently took the lighter. It was harder than I expected, but I managed to flick the wheel several times before a flame appeared. I cupped a hand around it to protect it from the wind and brought the flame to the end of his cigarette.
The end crackled softly, and he drew back on it long and slow, frowning as he did.
Dean then dropped his head back to breathe out a cloud of smoke, casting his teary gaze to the sky.
A police car was stationed outside the apartment, providing some security to a day that left us emotionally unguarded.
Inside, I slipped off my shoes, fed Bella a dinner of leftover rice because we had forgotten to buy dog food, and drifted into my room where Dean was already sitting on the end of my bed.
Head in hands, elbows to knees, he combed his fingers through his black hair.
His suit jacket sat beside him, his tie was discarded, and his sleeves were rolled up.
“I didn’t think that many people would show,” he muttered.
I sat beside him and rested my head on his shoulder. “Your mom touched so many people’s hearts; I’m surprised more didn’t come.”
He threaded his fingers through mine. “Thank you for steppin’ up.”
I cupped the side of his face with my other hand. The gray-blue of his eyes held so much sorrow. There wasn’t a shred of any walls left, only raw emotion and complete trust. We had seen each other at our worst and barely flinched.
“Did you want to lay here a while?” My thumb stroked his cheek.
“Sounds good to me.”
We lay on top of the covers, still in our clothes and facing one another with our hands resting in the space between us. There was no talking, only listening to the sounds in my room and the city outside as the sun set.
Eventually, Dean fell into a deep sleep. The first he had had since last weekend.
I stayed beside him for some time, until night fell and the room grew dark; until Kira and Seb arrived home with the quiet click of the front door. They didn’t say a word, and I wondered if they went straight to her room.
Bella began to bark frantically.
I frowned at the door. She usually loved Seb and Kira.
Not wanting it to wake Dean, I got out of bed and padded over to the door before slipping out of the room, back first, as I quietly closed the door again.
“Bella,” I whispered, turning around to calm the dog and greet our friends. “It’s okay. It’s just—”