Page 27 of His Wisconsin Wallflower (Stateside Doms #25)
He stood tall, his shoulders back, but his fingers curled into loose fists at his sides, the song striking a raw chord deep within him.
Glancing down the pew, he saw Raisa’s lips moving as she sang along with the words, her eyes shimmering but steady.
Her presence anchored him, even amid the shared grief pressing down on the room.
When the hymn faded, the pastor stepped forward, his warm baritone breaking the heavy silence.
“We gather here today,” he began, his measured words soothing the tension in the air, “to celebrate Vanessa’s life and find strength in one another.
In loss, we are reminded of the importance of love, community, and the enduring power of memory. ”
Quinten glance around, seeing many familiar faces.
Mr. and Mrs. Miller from the hardware store sat a few rows back, their heads bowed in silent prayer.
Quinten scanned the rest of crowd, recognizing so many faces from town but also people he hadn’t seen in years, all gathered to say goodbye to someone whose life had been cut tragically short.
It was a stark reminder of how loss could pull a community together, even amid heartache.
To his right, Lila sat beside Corbin, their hands entwined.
The younger couple had grown close, and the way Corbin leaned in to whisper in Lila’s ear made Quinten smile despite the solemnity of the moment.
They were cute, ridiculously so, and a flicker of hope warmed him that something good had come out of all this mess.
Across the aisle, Beth sat with Megan, Megan’s husband, and their two daughters.
When their eyes met, Beth gave Raisa a polite nod, her expression subdued.
There was no hostility now, only a quiet respect that hadn’t been there before.
It was a far cry from the girl he’d known in high school, and he hoped that for Raisa, the apology brought some sense of peace.
As the pastor spoke of Vanessa’s life, Raisa tilted her head to the symmetrical vaulted ceiling, and her gaze grew distant.
Quinten knew she wasn’t studying the frescos but reflecting.
Probably she was thinking back on everything that had brought them to this point.
He didn’t disturb her, instead sliding his hand over hers, his thumb brushing the soft skin in a silent gesture of support.
She turned to him, a small, grateful smile curving her lips.
After the final hymn, “Be Still, My Soul,” the congregation began to file out. Quinten stood, helping Nana to her feet as she patted his arm in thanks. Raisa lingered, glancing once more toward Vanessa’s mother before stepping into the aisle.
Outside, the January air was crisp and cold, clouds of breath forming as people gathered in clusters.
Quinten waited as Raisa exchanged a quiet word with Beth, their interaction brief but sincere.
The hostility between them had melted, replaced with an understanding that neither of them had expected but both had eagerly accepted.
When Raisa returned to his side, he reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together. “Ready?” His love for her made his heart swell.
She nodded, meeting his gaze. “Ready.”
They went to the car, hand in hand, their steps quiet against the snow-dusted path. The wrought-iron gates framed the horizon ahead, standing out against the soft winter sky. Quinten glanced at Raisa. Her cheeks were rosy from the chill, her expression pensive but peaceful.
Her fingers curled into his. Every time she touched him like this or their shoulders touched when she unconsciously leaned into him it lit something up inside him.
She’d been so composed during the service, but now, sitting beside him in the car, her lashes were heavy.
He let her have the silence.
Funerals had a way of stealing words, and this one had been especially brutal.
There would always be a scar on this town after what happened to Vanessa.
Some things didn’t fade, didn’t soften with time, but even deep wounds healed when tended to with care and love.
And God, he had love to give her. More than he’d ever known he had.
He glanced over at Raisa, her profile soft in the pale winter light. She caught him looking and blushed, that shy little smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. Like she still didn’t quite believe he was hers. Like she didn’t realize she’d upended his entire world the moment he laid eyes on her.
She’d read him a few pages of one of her stories last week.
Nervously. Her voice had trembled over her own words, cheeks flaming red as she read aloud.
But the writing was good. The words were emotionally rich and beautifully real.
She didn’t see it yet, not really, but she would. He’d make sure of it.
Whatever it took, he’d support and champion her. Remind her every damn day how brilliant she was until she believed it, until her name sat proud on bookstore shelves where it belonged.
Quinten reached for her hand again and brought it to his lips.
“You okay?” She squeezed his fingers.
He nodded. “I am now.”
And he was. For the first time in a long time, he felt whole.
He had a future again. With this woman beside him, he had everything.