𝐎𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐞

Chapter Twenty (part Two)

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Matthew never cared about sunsets before; the golden sparkle under the clouds, the glow of it promising dark, sensual passion, or a simple romantic evening walking side by side with her as they both watched the sun disappear. Looking at the sunset through the window of Father Josè's hospital room, it reminded him of Imani, and he didn't like it.

Everything now seems to remind him of her, like laughter, or a smile, a joke he would like to repeat to her. While it was annoying and out of control, thinking about her became his solace—an escape as he watched father Josè lying on the bed. His mind would recall her, replay every conversation they ever had, watch her beautiful doe eyes look at him as he spoke, the way she trembled in his arms, her sighs and moans as he kissed her, her hair in his fingers, the touch of her mouth to his.

"Kiss me again, Imani." he'd told her the last time they were together, which now seemed like an eternity. She'd smiled—a shy, coquettish grin that had Matthew groaning into her mouth.

"You drive me crazy!" he had murmured, almost breathless, his nose touching hers, cupping her face.

"You do the same to me," She'd whispered, running her fingers into his hair. She reveled in knowing she could touch him any time she wanted as long as they were not in public, kiss him whenever she wanted, but the most thrilling part was how she could make him lose control. Imani didn't know how whether their affair would last the four stipulated months or if circumstances might cut it short, but she had made a vow to enjoy every single second with him.

Matthew stayed in Italy for two weeks, watching and waiting for father Josè to wake up. He felt as if he was standing in the middle of a storm, yet a part of him was calm but anxious.

Afraid that his friend, parent, and confidant would die, and longing to see Imani again. He spoke to her often, afraid he might make the last mistake by ignoring her; that hadn't worked, but this time was different; he needed to hear her voice to cope with the fear of death hovering under their noses.

Cruel for death to be teasing them like it was, waiting in the shadow, waiting to take away the one person who'd been there for Matthew since he could remember. He spoke of him with her, telling her how much he meant to him. Matthew found it calming, peaceful, even.

Eventually, father Josè woke up on a Wednesday afternoon. He was surrounded by all five of them. Though he was weak, he smiled—a weak grin, but his eyes were warm with love and appreciation radiating from his gaze.

A collective of sighs of relief and cursing filled the room. If he could, he would have admonished them for such foal language, not that it would stop them, but it was a habit.

"You scared the hell out of us!" Matthew swore, moving to touch his forehead.

Father Josè smiled again, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them slowly as if he was tired to peer at the men surrounding his bed. He had done well, he thought, not perfectly since three of them were in organized crime, but God knew he'd done his best to raise them, loved them from the day he met them, taught them the ways of the lord, and they all remained his best work yet.

"Do I have to be at the blink of death for you to come see me?" Though his voice was weak and scratchy, they heard him. He was getting old, they realized, something they had talked about when they waited for him to wake up. Somehow, they knew he might not survive the next heart attack or live longer as they had hoped.

He could be a vague memory for their children—someone they had known but couldn't recall. Sad to realize that their children might lose the chance of knowing this great man.

"You officiated Bruno's wedding, don't you remember? "

"Yes, I do. But that is because there was a wedding otherwise I wouldn't have seen either of you."

"Shouldn't you be resting?" Gabriel chipped in with  a concerned tone, his hands in his pocket

"Why? You don't want me to mention you haven't seen me since the new year?"

Gabriel remained silent. He felt guilty. This experience had revealed how much for granted he had taken him.

He was used to having father Josè call him every so often, thinking he would always be there. Watching him unconscious in the last few days had shown him that even a man of God was mortal.

"I've been a little busy," he managed to defend himself, clearing his throat as if he knew it was a lousy excuse.

"That's what all of you tell me. Isn't that the truth, Matthew?"

He didn't have anything else to say other than nod. It was true; they had neglected him, went out from a nest he'd built for them to fed for themselves, and found success, but whether they were ready to admit it or not did change the fact that they had abandoned him—taken him for granted and only came when their businesses brought them in the country but not purposely to visit him.

"I am proud of the men you have become," he mumbled, his hands resting on his stomach, eyes dropping with fatigue. They stood there motionless, watching him breathing as if they were afraid death would swop in and grab him if they did move.

"I'm not dying today." He would have chuckled if he'd had the strength. True to his word, he did not die, it wasn't his time yet, or so he said.

Xoxo