Man Who Can't Be Moved..-Niall Horan Love Story

Half Of Me.

Cassie's POV.

It's always like this now, the black dress, the makeup down my face after an hour. I didn't want to do it again..but this time, it was different. 

He was my father, okay yes, but I didn't even know him. And his family was going to be there. The woman he remarried instead of coming back to my mother, the children he had that was a replacement for his lost, presumably daughter. I didn't want that, I didn't want to see the perfect trophy wife he had and the kids that excelled in soccer or baseball or school spirit..I didn't care. I really didn't.

"You'll be okay love." Niall said standing in the doorway. 

"I know." He knew the reason why I didn't even want to go..it was them. 

We headed to the church. It was bright and happy and frankly absolutely breathtakingly beautiful. The windows weren't all Jesus and God oriented, some had beautiful flowers on them, and the pews each had flowers on the end of it, pink ones. The double doors and stairs were huge and amazingly beautiful. The half circle window above the doors was painted to perfection in bright, vivid colors. The statues were beautiful and well scuplted. A woman caught my eye, she was smiling, but there was a tear down her face. She was like a goddess.

"The goddess of strength and wisdom.." Niall nodded towards her.

"Why is she those things?" I asked.

"Because she was through the worst of battles, losing her husband and both of her children." he said.

"That's so sad, I can't imagine burying a child." I nodded. I envied her, she was so beautiful and had been through so much and even though she was broken, she still smiled.

He saw me still looking around at everything, the paintings and statues.

"you like this place don't you." He whispered.

"For a person who has never been to church other than funerals, yes..this is the best and most beautiful church I have ever seen." I said in amazement.

"That's because it was modeled after a church in Italy. The Andrea della Valle " He smiled.

"How did you know that?" I asked.

"I'm good at history." He smiled again. He's actually extremely smart.

I had to stand by the coffin since I was his daughter, barely.

I watched as his wife and kids walked in. She truely was the trophy wife. Blonde hair curled and half up to perfection, red lips, pale skin, blue eyes. She was skinny and beautiful. She had a giant diamond ring on her finger. Her black gown was long and she had a pin in her hair with a black lace thing draped over her face a bit. 

His kids were older. About 17 and 13. Son and daughter. He must have met her not long after her left my mother. I just wish he told me...when I got back, when I tried contacting him.

His son was gorgeous. Brown hair spiked up a bit and bright blue eyes. He was tall and skinny, soccer maybe. And his daughter was a blonde/brunette. She was smaller with green eyes. 

They came and stood next to me. The boy next to me and then their mom and then the girl. It was so awkward. 

The mother was dabbing her eyes with a tissue/hankerchief. I just rolled my eyes...typical rich bitch.

"This is so stupid." The boy leaned to me and said. I looked at him completely dumbfounded..he had a sort of british accent.

"What?" I said.

"You're british?" he asked.

"You are a bit too." I said.

"I went to school in London for a year." he said.