Page 17 of His Wife

“Isaia—”

“I need to leave,” he mutters and gets on his feet, helping me up, too. There are no more words I can say, and all I can do is watch as he stomps off in the other direction, hands tucked in his jacket pockets.

Shivers wrack through me, and I rub my hands up and down my arms, feeling utterly helpless, knowing nothing I say or do will help take the pain away.

Wiping my own tears from my cheeks, I make my way to the master bedroom. Maximo and Mirabella are both standing by the door, Mira tucked deep under her brother’s arm, her arms wrapped around his waist. All I can do is offer them my unspoken sympathy with a half-smile that’s nothing more than a mere press of my lips.

Mira takes my hand as I settle next to her. “You should go in. He needs you.”

“No. I can’t. It’s not my place.”

“Your place is next to your husband.”

“I'm not sure I can be what he needs me to be right now.”

“Leandra.” Mira pulls away from her brother and grabs my shoulders, determination burning through her tears. “Do you love him?”

I narrow my eyes. “What?”

“Do you love Alexius?”

“It’s not that—”

“Stop. Stop the bullshit for once, and just answer the damn question. Do you. Love him?”

Every wall left standing around my heart crumbles, and I’m naked, exposed, left with nothing but the truth I’ve been trying to ignore for so long. There’s no use in denying it any longer; it’s not something I can change, no matter what the consequences might be. This is my truth.

“Yes,” I whisper, tasting my tears on my lips, my heart raw and bleeding. “I do. I love him.”

“Then you go be with him. You stand by him. And you be whatever the hell he needs you to be for him to get through this.” Mira sniffs, and I nod through my own tears. “Go.”

I’m not sure how I manage to put one foot in front of the other. I’m too busy focusing on taking one breath at a time, trying to get my racing heart under control as I slowly walk into the bedroom. The soft whispers and silent whimpers whisk along my skin. Sadness thickens the air, and I swallow hard, the heavy heartbreak of saying goodbye weighing down my chest.

As I round the corner of the entryway, I see Caelian standing close to his mother, who lies on the bed next to her husband, resting her head on his shoulder, her tears seeping through the fabric of his blue nightwear as he whispers something against her hair. Loving words. Final words. Words that carry the last crackling of a dying fire. A light that will soon be no more.

But it’s not until I see Alexius kneeling next to his father’s bed, clutching his father’s hand between his palms, that my soul fractures. My heart is cut open as I witness my husband on his knees, more vulnerable than I have ever seen him.

Nicoli stands behind him with a gentle hand on Alexius’ shoulder, then looks at me and takes a step back, a silent gesture for me to take his place. The pain, the anguish in the room is almost too much to bear, and I can hardly keep my legs from giving way beneath me as I walk closer. I can feel Alexius’ agony wrap around me, stealing my breath and breaking my heart even more. My tears are my own, but they fall for him. They mourn…for him.

The moment his father’s eyes close, his chest rising and falling for the final time, Alexius presses his lips on his father’s knuckles, whispering something I can’t hear through the deathly silence. It’s too much, even for the angels. The silence of insurmountable sorrow.

Alexius stands, easing his father’s hand down before leaning over and touching his weeping mother’s cheek. God, I can taste it. I can taste death and its bitter aftermath as I stare at Alexius, his expression pained, but hard. It’s the expression of a powerful man fighting, struggling against the grief of a son who just lost his father.

He turns to face me, and the second our eyes meet, I see it. I see his need to break down. I see his strength dissipating as he desperately tries to hold on…just a little longer.

Just a little longer.

Without saying a word, I take his hand, clutching it tight, leading him out of the room. Even the halls don’t feel the same anymore. There’s an emptiness that drifts around us as if the air is grieving, too, the lights no longer shining as bright.

Silently, I enter our bedroom, easing the door closed behind him. He’s standing in the middle of the room, back turned toward me, not saying a single word. And all I can do is wrap my arms around him from behind, leaning my head against his broad shoulders. “It’s okay,” I whisper. “You don’t have to be afraid of breaking. Not with me.”

His muscles strain as he inhales deeply with a shaky breath, right before the veil breaks. A sob tears from his throat, and we both collapse to the ground. I have my arms around his shoulders, holding him as tight as I can while hearing that broken sound come from his tears. Through all my years, I have never felt as powerless as I do now, holding him, rocking back and forth, wishing I can take away his pain, ease his suffering. More than anything, I want to make him whole again, but losing someone you love leaves a hollow in your soul that nothing can fill. It’s always there. Always open. Over time, we just make space for it.

ChapterEight

ALEXIUS

The wood of the casket is polished to a dark sheen. The gold latches and carry handles on the sides glint under the brightness of the sun. I expected it to rain today, to be overcast and gloomy, the way it's been around here ever since my father took his last breath. But it’s unusually sunny for a winter's day, another way the universe showcases its love of irony. The only chill in the air is that of the subtle breeze that brings with it the scent of freshly cut grass, the air sweet and clean.

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