Incendiary Hearts

Prologue

Time.

Times is everything. It's the beginning, the middle and the ending. But as something ends, something else begins. Takes its sprout and grows from the remnants of what's left. And then it starts over again. Yes, time is constant. Sometimes you have loads of it. Sometimes not enough. That's life. And life has its different moments, filled with laughter and tears, firsts and lasts, joy, happiness, anger and sadness. A wonderful, heart aching mixture of it all. But how ever each of our stories in life unravel themselves, unfortunately, undoubtedly, they must all come to an end. Come to an end, so something else can begin. It is the one thing all human beings have in common. What life encircles around. Time.

Grief. A feared experience for all human beings. The loss of a loved one. A moment in life that tears at your heart and soul, makes you question your life choices and wonder if you'll ever be happy again.

Yes, grief is a strong emotion, Kevin thought as his gaze swept over the many people in their home, offering their condolences and sharing loving memories about the lost one.

As the firemen gathered here today had told their many stories about Jonathan, Kevin's older brother, Kevin had barely been able to take it anymore. His whole body had screamed at him to leave the room. To just turn on his heels and walk away. It was all too painful. Too realistic for this unimaginable moment in his life. But he'd stayed put, if not for himself, then for his late, beloved brother.

"How you holding up?"

Kevin snapped out of his morbid thoughts and turned his head toward the sound, his heart not even managing to make a little leap over who'd sought him out. The man with short, pitch-black hair and piercing blue eyes was already looking at him. How many times had Kevin not looked at him, praying for those very blue eyes to meet his. Like they had so many times in the past.

But not like this.

Not with so much sadness and remorse in them.

Kevin turned his gaze forward again. "Fine."

"I don't think any one of us are fine," the person disagreed, the emotions in his eyes extending to his voice.

"Then why ask?"

The person with the blue eyes smiled shortly. Kevin had always been quick with remarks, even when he was upset. "Because you're supposed to, I guess."

"Aren't we beyond that?"

The person grew somber again. Indeed, they were. Far beyond it. He was about to reply when a graceful woman in her mid-fifties, all dressed in black, walked over to them. "Michael, it's so good to see you." The woman kissed the man's cheek and squeezed his hand. "The speech was beautiful."

"Thank you, Aurora. It's good to see you too. And again, I'm so sorry for your loss."

"It was a loss for all of us," Aurora stated sadly while motioning around the room. "But it's kind of you to say. How are you holding up?"

"Just about," Michael admitted, not used to share his emotions. But he figured it was the least he could do for the mother of his work-partner and best friend. Dead best friend, he had to remind himself, his heart constricting painfully like it had so many times this last month. "And you?"

"The same," Aurora confessed with a trembling smile, her eyes glassy. "It's been too long since we last saw you," she continued, her meaning of too long stretching for about six months. "You must come to dine with us for a Sunday roast."

Michael's whole being rejected the idea. He was barely able to stay in this room as it was, how could he possibly manage a whole evening with the family he'd so utterly let down? Luckily, he had an excuse. "I have a shift the day after tomorrow, so I'm heading back home after this, I'm afraid."