*Formerly called Love Happened*
Mila had an ordinary life. A cute boyfriend. Parents who were still happily married. From an outsider’s perspective, Mila had everything.
Nobody knew just how restless she was.
Neither did she know about the genes t...
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I straightened my dress for the hundredth time as we stepped into the church. I didn't want to be here, didn't want to do this. It was Christmas Eve tomorrow, Christmas day in two days.
And I was attending a funeral.
Christian's funeral.
God, just thinking those words was like a sucker punch right in the stomach.
I hadn't gone to the viewing. I just couldn't do it. I was too scared. My last memory of Christian had been of him alive. He hadn't been healthy and it had been a sorrowful moment, but he'd been alive. I feared that if I saw his body, it would be all I'd see when I thought of him. Christian was... he was Christian. I didn't want my memories of him to be any more altered than they already were.
Mom had a hold of my elbow and Dad had a hand on my back as they guided me towards a pew at the front of the church – supporting me and not just in the physical sense. I sat down hard, my eyes involuntarily drawn to the coffin. Christian was in there. And soon he'd be buried six feet under the ground. Christian would be in the cold, hard ground.
Tears made their way down my face and I used a scrunched up tissue to wipe them away.
We'd been to this church so many times over the years. Christian and I. Neither of our families were very religious, but there had been many weddings and even a few funerals held here during our lives. Christian had sat by me on these very pews as we fidgeted on the edge of our seats, eager to get out of the place. He'd chased me around the majestic room as we'd waited for the bride to arrive, raced me down the aisle when it was time to leave, ducking and weaving through other guests in an effort to see who could get to the door first.
And now his funeral was being held here.
I looked away from the coffin. I'd scream if I thought more about him in that enclosed space, if I continued to dwell on how I'd never see him smile or laugh again.
The funeral was a blur. I sat there, silent tears falling down my face as everyone talked about Christian and his life. I could feel Luca's presence near the back of the church, alongside a number of other teachers. Donna was here too, somewhere. Mom's shoulders shook as she tried to hold in her tears. Dad was blinking slowly, his eyes staying shut longer than necessary before they opened again. He wasn't one to cry, but the darkness under his eyes and the deep grooves on his face showed the depth of his sadness. Both of them kept a hand on my arm in silent comfort, and I was grateful for it.
I couldn't even look at Ella and Rob. They'd lost their only child, and there was nothing in the world that would ever make that OK.
***
I lay in my bed, nestled under the covers after the funeral. I hadn't taken my dress off, just curled into a ball as I was, feeling so strangely aware of myself and everything around me. My wolf was alert, even as I tried to block everything out and lose myself in sleep.
