Mourning Never Comes Romane & Geschichten

Donovan had not come begging for it. Perhaps he was too ashamed. Perhaps he did not even know about it, or perhaps my mother-in-law had finally understood something. Either way, my connection to her ended with that money and the prepaid fees. It would be the best ending if both of us could find peace. The evening glow filtered through the balcony glass door, painting the living room in warm golden orange. I stood up, slid open the glass door, and stepped onto the balcony. The evening breeze was gentle, carrying the fresh scent of early summer plants growing.

Does he even understand it causes permanent emotional impairment? "I'd bet my license he still loves you. Otherwise, he wouldn't have come up with something so convoluted. But he's too arrogant, thinking he can control everything as if it were some master plan. The day he finds out the truth, he's going to wish he were dead." I lowered my gaze, tracing the rim of my glass with my finger. Whether or not he regretted it no longer had anything to do with me. In seven days, everything about him would be wiped clean from my mind—beyond the reach of memory or emotion.

She was like a lifeless pond. That was when he realized she was already saying her goodbyes. Zack's heart ached, and the wolf within him recoiled in distress. He tried to reach out through their mark, but... "The temporary mark… is it gone?" That thought crushed him completely. His phone was blowing up with calls from family, friends, and Nancy. Even then, he could not bring himself to look. One question haunted him: Why did Maggie cut all ties? She had told the Elders about her decision half a month ago...

"As far as IronVale is concerned, Rosalie, you're already buried. Nobody's looking for you. Nobody's going to look for you." I sat with that for a long moment, staring into the fire, waiting for the grief to hit the way it had every other time this week, the kind that stole my breath and left me shaking. It came, but… different, and stranger, tangled up with something I didn't expect to feel at all. "They're mourning someone who isn't dead," I said slowly, testing the shape of the thought out loud. "They're standing around some memorial for a girl who's sitting right here."

No matter what we do, we willl never get back what we lost. The fighting on the clearing slowly dies; we have won. But I don't feel anything; I'm numb as Byron keeps howling in the most heartbreaking voice, full of suffering and sorrow. We've lost a friend..

“Dad, you were meant to live on. Embrace my children in your arms... Being here is essential for you, me, and those precious little ones yet unborn.” “What am I going to do without your help now that you're no more?” This is a loss for me, now the only thing I'm left with is profound emptiness. His absence is a hole that would never be filled. “C'mon, sweetheart, you need to stop crying like this.” She whispered to me calmly, trying to console me. “It's forbidden to cry in the mortuary.” She spoke in a calm and reassuring tone, yet I couldn't control myself.

The world hadn’t stopped moving, but it felt like mine had. There were people. Too many. Faces blurred behind veils of tears. Soft murmurs, the rustling of fabric, the shuffles of shoes across stone. But none of it mattered. None of them mattered. They had come to mourn a queen. I had come to bury a part of myself.

"How do I mourn someone I barely knew? How do I grieve a father who was never really there?" "The same way you do anything hard. One day at a time. With the people who love you. Together." Paramedics arrived. Confirmed what we already knew. Victor was dead. They covered his body. Prepared to transport him to the morgue. We left the estate. Drove back to the compound in silence. Sophia was waiting. When she saw us, she ran into my arms. "You are alive. You are really alive." "I am alive. We are all alive. Except—" I could not finish.