Michael stood to my left, holding my hand, his thumb tracing a slow, comforting pattern across the back of it. I had tried and failed to convince him not to come with me. He knew this would be hard for me and he also felt the need to pay his respects since he had delivered the final blow.
The sun had begun to set. Orange light spilled in from the trees surrounding the cemetery as the pastor closed out the reading. Each family member was given the chance to select a flower before they interred the coffin into the grave. He would be resting next to his father’s parents, who had died a couple years ago. He loved them dearly and so it was only right he remained with them in death.
One by one, his immediate family plucked roses from the decorations. The pastor glanced towards me. It was common knowledge that I was the only long-term relationship Terrell had ever been in. It led some people to believe I was sort of family. I shook my head, not feeling worthy of such an honor, but Terrell’s younger sister Grace nudged my arm to encourage me. Her mother opened her mouth to object. Grace sent her a glare that would melt a glacier and she pressed her lips together in silent consent.
I let go of Michael’s hand and selected a lily, my fingertips brushing the polished surface of the coffin. No one was close enough to hear me whisper, “Thank you for everything.”
I went back to my spot and the pastor finished the ceremony with a powerful prayer. Shortly afterward, the crowd dispersed to get ready for the reception, which I wouldn’t be attending because I didn’t feel very welcome. It had only been at Grace’s urging that I was allowed to come at all.
I gave her a firm hug, holding her hands before I pulled away. “I’m so sorry, Gracie. I really am.”
She shook her head, attempting to smile. “It’s alright. I’m glad you came. He’d want things to be right between our families.”
I returned the tentative smile. “Good luck with that.”
She giggled, but the sound didn’t drown out her mother’s cold voice as she walked over, her frown lines deepening with anger.
“I can’t believe you, Grace. Inviting that trollop here like she’s one of us, and with a white man, no less. Huh. Probably wants to know if she got something in the will.” The old woman sneered, glaring between Michael and me.
I didn’t know what came over me at that moment. Maybe I felt vulnerable or maybe that sneer reminded me of my Aunt Carmen, but either way words spilled out of my lips before I could stop them.
“Don’t,” I snapped. “Don’t you stand here on your son’s grave and soil his memory with your selfishness. I don’t care if you don’t like me. I don’t care if you think you’re better than me. Terrell was a great man and I will not let you stand here and act like you don’t have any home training. I am here to pay my respects and I have paid them so you don’t have to worry about me darkening your doorstep again. All he ever wanted was for the people he loved to be happy and you will never honor his wishes as long as you keep stepping on the people you think are beneath you.”
She said nothing, only glancing away with a mixture of shame and anger. I exhaled and turned back to Grace. “If you ever need anything, you’ve got my number. Take care of yourself, okay?”
She nodded. “You too.”
With that, Michael and I started towards the car. He reached for my hand again and I took it, glad as his warm fingers wrapped around mine. His voice was quiet when he spoke.
“Are you going to be alright?”
I sighed. “Maybe. Someday I’ll wake up and this won’t hurt as much. But that day isn’t today.”
He opened the car door for me, meeting my eyes as I climbed in. “Until then, I’ll be around to remind you that you have saved more lives than you have taken.”
For the first time that day, a genuine smile touched my lips. “That’s sweet of you.”
Michael leaned down and kissed me, whispering, “It’s also completely true. I have faith in that day as I have faith in you.”
“I couldn’t ask for anything else.”
Then he shut the door and drove me home.
***
Terminat hora diem; terminal Author opus.
The hour ends the day; the author ends his work.
She Who Fights Monsters
Can Jordan Amador and the Archangel Michael stop an assassin from wiping out the Seers of the world and avert the Apocalypse
She Who Fights Monsters?
About the Author
Kyoko M is an author, a fangirl, and an avid book reader. She has a Bachelor of Arts in English Lit degree from the University of Georgia, which gave her every valid excuse to devour book after book with a concentration in Greek mythology and Christian mythology. Like any author, she wants nothing more than to contribute something great to the best profession in the world, no matter how small.