The Change|| BxB

18. Fractured Reflections

Who would have imagined that Valentino and Max would find themselves at a funeral, especially together? The weather mirrored their somber mood; rain fell steadily, creating a gloomy atmosphere that seemed to wrap around them like a shroud. The speeches were over, and the crowd was now engaged in quiet conversation, their words hushed by the rain and their shared grief. Max's father had passed away just a week after Max and Valentino had gotten together. The circumstances surrounding his death were shrouded in confusion—some labeled it a murder, others suspected suicide, and a few even speculated it was an assassination. Though, in reality, the cause was less about intrigue and more about the crushing weight of his father's own choices and the toll they took on him.

Max's father had once owned a restaurant, but the real blow had come from the stress of his mafia connections and the subsequent heart attack exacerbated by his son's absence. The conflicting stories about his death did little to ease Max's pain, who was struggling with the finality of it all.

"Please hold me," Max whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of the rain. He tugged gently at Valentino's suit jacket, seeking solace in his presence. Valentino didn't need words; he simply wrapped his arms around Max, pulling him close. He held him tightly, offering comfort as Max's tears continued to fall. Valentino could only imagine how devastating it must be to lose a parent at such a young age, even if Max's father had not been a perfect man.

Max felt utterly lost. He had cried so much that it seemed he had no tears left to shed. The loss of his father hit him hard, and he was overwhelmed by a profound sense of regret. His father had not been a saint, but the reality of his death felt harsh and unfair. Max had never had the chance to say goodbye, and now he was left with the unbearable weight of wondering if things could have been different.

As the funeral drew to a close, Max released himself from Valentino's embrace and walked away from the gathering. The cemetery was still an hour or two away from his new home, but Max's steps were driven by a need to escape the stifling atmosphere of grief. Valentino watched him go but understood the necessity of letting Max find his own way back, knowing he would return when he was ready.

Max wandered aimlessly, eventually finding himself at his old house and then at the park nearby. The rain continued to fall, mingling with his tears as he tried to recall the happier times with his parents. Memories of laughter and love were overshadowed by the pain of their absence. He felt a deep, emotional hurt, compounded by a sense of selfishness. He couldn't help but focus on his own suffering, feeling as though he was making it all about himself, even though he knew this was part of the grieving process.

He struggled with feelings of guilt, wishing he had spent more time with his mother before her death. She had battled severe depression and bipolar disorder, and her decision to end her life had left him with unresolved questions and regrets. At least he had managed to say goodbye to her, even if it was not under the best circumstances. Now, he regretted not having more time with his father, and he wondered if his departure from home had contributed to his father's ultimate fate. The weight of that realization was nearly unbearable.

Max found a secluded bench in the park, sitting down heavily. The rain soaked through his clothes, but he barely noticed, lost in his thoughts. He was caught between the pain of losing his parents and the lingering regrets about his own decisions. His father's passing had forced him to confront the consequences of running away and the impact it had on his family. He wondered if he could have made a difference, if staying might have changed the course of events.

Valentino's presence was a comfort, but Max knew he needed time to process his emotions alone. The world around him seemed to blend into the backdrop of his grief, each raindrop a reminder of the tears he had shed and the pain he still felt. As he sat there, the rain continued to fall, washing away the remnants of his sorrow but unable to fully cleanse the deep-seated regret that he carried.

The park, once a place of childhood memories, now felt like a space of reflection and sorrow. Max knew that moving forward would require him to confront his grief, accept his mistakes, and find a way to honor his parents' memory while forging a new path for himself. It was a painful but necessary journey, and for now, he allowed himself the space to grieve and remember, knowing that healing would come in time.

Word counter: 825