the fire between us

chapter 22

⚠️Content Warning: The upcoming chapters will delve into sensitive and potentially distressing themes, including death, funerals, and feelings of loneliness. These topics will be explored in depth and may evoke strong emotions. If you find these subjects challenging or triggering, please take care of yourself and proceed with caution. It's important to prioritize your well-being and seek support if needed. Thank you for your understanding.

This content warning will precede each chapter that includes these themes, so you can make informed decisions about your reading experience. The warning will be removed once these themes are no longer central to the narrative. Thank you for your understanding and for taking care of yourself.⚠️

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Two days later, the sun has just started to rise, casting a soft, golden light over the landscape as we make our way to the church. The car ride is quiet, filled with the weight of what today means. The funeral we planned so carefully is now upon us, and while the grief is still raw, there's a sense of resolve among us, a determination to see this through and honor Grandma the way she deserves.

Martinus is driving, his hands steady on the wheel, his focus unwavering. He glances over at me every now and then, his eyes filled with concern and support. I give him a small nod, letting him know that I'm holding up, that I'm ready for this, even if my heart feels heavy.

Nora is sitting beside me, her hand resting on mine, her presence a constant source of comfort. She's been my rock these past few days, and I don't know how I would have made it through without her. Marcus is in the front passenger seat, his usual calm demeanor a grounding force for all of us.

As we approach the church, the familiar building comes into view, its tall steeple reaching toward the sky. The morning light bathes the stone walls in a warm glow, making it seem almost serene despite the somber occasion. The sight of it brings a lump to my throat, a mix of emotions swirling inside me—grief, love, and the overwhelming need to say goodbye properly.

Martinus parks the car, and we sit in silence for a moment, gathering our strength. "Ready?" he asks quietly, turning to look at me, his eyes soft and understanding.

I take a deep breath and nod. "Ready."

We step out of the car, the cool morning air greeting us as we make our way toward the church entrance. The doors are open, and I can see a few people already inside, their heads bowed in quiet reflection. 

We walk up the steps of the church together, the sound of our footsteps soft against the stone. As we enter, the quiet hush of the sanctuary envelops us, a space where grief is both acknowledged and held with reverence. The air is cool, tinged with the scent of fresh flowers that adorn the altar, their colors muted in the gentle morning light filtering through the stained glass windows.

Martinus guides us to the front of the church, where the first row of benches sits empty, reserved for family. We settle into the pew, side by side, the wood cool and firm beneath us. The reality of the moment washes over me as I look up at the altar, where Grandma's casket rests, draped in a soft white cloth. It feels surreal, seeing it there, knowing she's inside, yet it also feels like a step I need to take, a final acknowledgment of her passing.

Nora's hand is still in mine, her grip gentle but steady, a reminder that I'm not alone in this. I glance at Marcus and Martinus on either side of me, their presence a quiet strength. They've been my pillars through this, and as much as I miss her, I'm grateful for them.

But even with their support, the emptiness inside me is overwhelming. I miss her so much it hurts—a deep, aching void that nothing seems to fill. The memories of her come rushing back: her laughter, her voice, the way she used to hum as she cooked in the kitchen. I miss her smile, the warmth of her hugs, the way she always seemed to know exactly what to say when I was feeling lost.