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Stella

L ike a mindless zombie, I go through all the motions of making sure my mother’s funeral arrangements are in place.

Saint is no help.

And Cami is…still missing.

Andre hasn’t left my side, which is both a comfort and an annoyance, since he even hovers when I’m showering, bringing me meals three times a day, and offering me pills to help me sleep at night. With him. Since we’re sleeping in my bed at my parent’s house, or Saint’s house now, I guess. I’ve convinced myself it doesn’t really count. We’re just in a temporary ceasefire.

I’ve been too depressed to yell at him and can’t remember why I’m angry. The grief takes up all my emotional capacity at the moment. The rest will have to wait until I get through the funeral.

Saint and I debated postponing, putting it off until Cami comes home.

But we both agreed to go through with it tomorrow, wanting it done and over with. Neither of us mentioned that if we wait, we might be burying Cami too. Or having a memorial for her, since I have no fucking clue if Sanna’s son will bring her back to us.

Everything feels like it’s spinning out of control.

Which is why when Andre suggests an appointment with Annie, I reluctantly agree to go sit down with her for an hour.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” Annie opens the door to let us into her office, wearing a black sweater and thick, black frames. “I also know there aren’t any words I can say to help.”

“Right,” I agree.

“We can spend some time discussing the various emotions you’re feeling and how to cope with them. I just want you to know today doesn’t have to be your new normal. It will get better as you come to accept your mother’s death.”

“What about my sister’s disappearance? Does that get easier?”

Annie looks from me to Andre who is still standing in the doorway. “Gangster shit,” I say in explanation.

She nods, then asks Andre, “Will you be joining our session today?”

“I can wait out here…”

“No, come in. As the bane of my existence, you should join us.”

“Anger is a natural response to grief,” Annie remarks.

“Oh, I was angry at him before my mom died,” I reply as I take my normal chair and cross my legs. Both Andre and Annie remain standing, staring at me. “Well? Sit your ass down, you nosy bastard. We both know you’d rather be in here than out in the hallway.”

“I fucked up,” Andre says to Annie as he lowers himself onto the sofa, taking up most of the space. From his seat, he can glance back and forth between me and the therapist like watching us serve volleys in a tennis match.

“Would you two like to discuss what Andre refers to as fucking up?”

“Oh, nothing much,” I tell her with a dismissive wave of my hand. “He killed my father, and his mob boss killed my brother.”

“Stella!” Andre jumps to his feet. Annie’s eyes widen behind her glasses, and then she’s the one watching the tennis match.

“What? This is all confidential.”

“No, it’s not!” Andre argues. “She’s obligated to report homicides to the police.”

“I wouldn’t report a client who confesses to a past crime,” she tells me, and then turns to Andre. “Since you’re a paying client, is there anything you would like to tell me?”

Andre’s jaw clenches as he stares at me like he wants to spank me or fuck me. Finally, he lowers his ass to the sofa again. “Her father was a horrible man who had a child with a woman younger than Stella. He abused her, blackmailed her, tortured her by breaking her fingers, and carved Izaiah’s name into her chest before burning it.” He looks at Annie. “Emilio was given a choice. He chose suicide. I only…assisted him in completing the task.”

“Task?” I scoff.

“I kept that all from Stella, from her brother and sister, to protect them from the god-awful truth about their father,” Andre tells Annie. “And her older brother, Izaiah, was going to slit the throat of an innocent woman, the mother of his father’s child who he was also fucking, before…someone stopped him by taking his life.”

“So, his death was self-defense?” Annie asks.

“Don’t take his side!”

She gives me a condescending smile like I’m a child. “I’m not taking sides, just trying to understand the facts.”

“Izaiah and Emilio were monsters who deserved to die,” Andre mutters. “Martha did not. Cami did not deserve to be kidnapped. That wasn’t my fault, though. It was Saint’s.”

“He only caused the accident that killed Sanna’s wife and daughter because of the lies you fed him about Sanna being responsible for Izaiah and my father’s deaths!” I remind him.

My asshole husband’s shoulders slump. “That’s true. But I only lied to protect Zara, her daughter, and my cousin. And to protect your family from your father’s dirty secrets. Did you even mourn your father? Or Izaiah?”

“Fuck you,” I snap.

“How about answering his question honestly with a yes or no, Stella,” Annie suggests softly.

“Fuck you too!”

She frowns at me. “You’re being defensive, trying to protect yourself from the truth.”

“Oh, is that what I’m doing? I thought I was reacting to you two ganging up on me.”

“Nobody is ganging up on you,” Annie replies. “Could you answer the question for us, Stella?”

I glower at the two of them, rethinking my decision to let Andre tag along. “Fine, I didn’t grieve for my asshole brother or my father. But my mom…”

“She was a good woman who didn’t deserve to suffer like she did,” Andre says. “And we are going to get Cami back.”

“You can’t promise me that!”

“I know. But I don’t want you to think the worst. Hope for the best, okay?”

“I’m not aware of the circumstances of your sister’s…disappearance,” Annie starts. “But Andre is right. You should remain optimistic. You have enough to deal with at the moment without assuming the worst case.”

“Easy for you to say. It’s not your sister who has been kidnapped by a psycho, mobster’s son in revenge for his sister and mom’s murders.”

“That…is true,” Annie agrees with a nod. “I can’t imagine how difficult that would be to endure, especially while you’re grieving for your mother. How have you been coping?”

I shrug. “I don’t have a choice.”

“She lets me hold her at night,” Andre chimes in, making my teeth ache from grinding them. “But during the day, she’s…numb. I have to remind her to eat and drink, to turn off the hot water in the shower so she doesn’t scald herself. The over-the-counter pills you suggested have helped her sleep.”

“The numbness is normal. And it’s good you have Andre to ensure you are taking care of yourself.”

“I guess he’s better than nothing,” I huff. “I’ve barely seen Saint since I told him, and the rest of my family is dead or missing because of Andre. Losing my brother and father is what killed my mother!”

My asshole husband’s face falls. “If you want me to shoulder all the blame, then I will. I’ll do whatever it takes to help you get through this, baby. I love you, mia dolce vipera .”

“Don’t call me that,” I warn him because I’m unable to tell him not to say those other three words. I hate them and love them, long to hear them again. I just wish I knew if he actually meant them…

“I think you’re at the bargaining stage of your grief, Stella. You’re telling yourself that different past choices may have led to a different outcome for your mother. But she’d been sick for years with cancer. She made the decision to stop treatment before anything happened to your father or brother. It’s okay to be angry at her for that decision, but at some point, you will have to accept it was her decision to stop fighting the inevitable. It wasn’t your decision or Andre’s that caused her death. Your mother knew she had a debilitating, ultimately fatal cancer.”

I bite my lip to keep it from trembling and try to blink back the tears.

“Death isn’t usually anyone’s fault. It’s just a natural part of life. An agonizing part that can’t be prevented,” Annie adds. “You can’t avoid it. All you can do is try to find peace in accepting it.”

The emotions come pouring out of me in a tidal wave. I bury my face in my palms and admit what’s been eating me up for days. “She was…alone. I should’ve…I should’ve been there with her!”

Strong arms wrap around me, nearly suffocating me. “She fell asleep and didn’t wake up, baby. She went peacefully, and there’s nothing you could’ve done to change that, even if you’d been with her. It’s what she wanted, remember? Exactly what she wanted.”

I have no recollection of how I got home that night. One minute I was in the therapist’s office, and the next I was in bed…alone.