Exclusively His

38: Time

I fell to my knees, collapsing as both of their graves lay in front of me.

'Here lies Marcus Alexander Russo Bianchi - beloved son, loving brother and dearest fiancé'

'Here lies Zion Phineas Orlando Bianchi - precious son, adored nephew and cherished cousin'

"Zafrina," Sarah spoke. "Malachi and I were thinking...maybe you should move in with us? The twins adore you, they'll be so thrilled. We don't think you should be alone right now, not in that great, big house."

I laughed out loud, almost bursting into sobs. "I can't leave our house! Marcus asked me to iron his suit."

I sniffed. "A-And we were going to paint the nursery door blue. And the wedding? We were supposed to be getting married in a few months."

I trailed the cravings on Zion's headstone. "E-Everything is my fault-"

"It's not, don't say that!" Malachi interrupted me.

"If I hadn't fought with him..." I sobbed quietly. "If we hadn't left the party, we never would've...he wouldn't have d-"

I felt myself being crushed as I struggled to finish my sentence.

Loss was a dangerous thing. In a moment of seconds, loss had collapsed my world. My place of sunshine had been destroyed, replaced by darkness. I wasn't just losing the love of my life, I was losing my other half. And my son, he came into this world only to know pain before he was snatched away from me.

It didn't take long for time to become meaningless. Days became weeks and weeks became months. I ended up losing myself completely, dancing and drinking away the pain, only to have it thrown back in my face when I was no longer intoxicated.

Everyone else got over Marcus and Zion's death quickly. Elena went back to law school, Damien went back to Hawaii to run the club, which was now under my name. Malachi and Sarah were bringing up the twins, Zunaira had a new boyfriend. Achilles and Evie still loved each other very much. Everyone had forgotten the pain, but I hadn't. I felt like everyone had something to keep them happy and I had nothing. Not to mention, paparazzi had gotten a hold of Marcus and Zion's unexpected death. I was all over the headlines.

"This has got to stop!" Achilles yelled. "It's been nearly six months and you still haven't gotten over him."

"How can I? He was my husband." I hissed back. "You speak as if you've lost a loved one or your child in a day!"

Achilles sighed. "Of course I have, I'm getting old. My son has run off to London to join the army and I haven't heard from him at all."

He rested a hand on my shoulder. "At least you know your husband and child are at peace. I don't know where my son is, whether he's dead or alive. He could be laying in a ditch somewhere and I wouldn't know."

I was gobsmacked.

"My dear, don't you see? This is life. You are in a bad situation, but right now, only you have the ability to switch it up. Marcus wouldn't have wanted this for you."

Although life had wounded me, time healed me.  It took me a while but after three to four months, I was happier and healthier. Achilles had given me another job, working as the hotel assistant manager. I allowed Damien to run the hotel, and I would travel to Hawaii frequently to improve the standards. We were doing well, but we still had plenty of things to work on. I couldn't bring myself to sell the house. I couldn't let go completely, I didn't want to say goodbye. From time to time, I'd open the nursery and just sit in it, stroke the furry blankets and play the music box. There were times where when I would miss him, I'd put on my ring, just to remember how it felt to be engaged. The ring was the closest I could get to ever being touched my him. I wasn't there yet, but I was getting there.

As for the accident, police were able to find the man who crashed into us - the drunk driver. After he had crashed into us, he tried to do a hit and run, leaving us stranded. After investigating and collecting evidence, my lawyers and I discovered that if he had helped us out sooner, Marcus and my son would still be alive. My son would've ended up with life changing disabilities and Marcus would've been paralysed for a few months. Going to court was possibly the hardest thing I ever had to do. Countless times, I was asked to recalled the memory and testify. But I would do it again and again if it meant I could see that bastard being taken away again. He was found guilty, and even though he pleaded guilty, they didn't decrease his sentence. He was given eight years to spend in prison.

I felt like I was finally getting better.