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Lifetime – Three Days Grace

FIFTEEN YEARS LATER

T he sea breeze stirs the hair behind me as I watch the tide rise. It should be soothing. It always used to be…at least I think it used to be. But now, as I watch the water wash over the wet sand, I feel unsettled.

I know this place.

I try to remember the last time everything felt right , but the thought slips from me before I can catch it. I take in the expanse of the shoreline, the sand stretching out, golden and endless. It’s completely empty, with no one in sight and I wonder if I’m in the right place.

I can’t remember .

I look down at my hands, the skin on my fingertips like the skin of a prune, wrinkled from the salt. How long have I been here? I carve out the inside of my mind, searching for an answer, but it remains out of reach. I’ve watched the tide pull in and out countless times, the rhythm comforting, but today, it feels strange, like I shouldn’t be here.

“Here you are,” a deep voice says.

I blink, turning toward it. A man, tall and masculine, stands before me.

Who is he?

“ Amore mio ,” he whispers, smiling. “Let’s head back.” He reaches out to me to take my hand and I hesitate for a second before something inside me calms at his touch. His face is familiar…but I don’t know why I feel this way.

I stare at my hand in his, the scars rough and his hold so sure, but…I can’t remember when they’ve held mine before.

“I…” The words don’t come. I want to speak, but my mouth has forgotten how to say the words.

“Everyone’s waiting for you.” He guides me toward the road that leads up to a large house, the ground soft beneath my bare feet.

Everyone?

I walk beside him and with each step we take, it feels like it’s pulling me away from something, like I’m walking into a fog I can’t escape. The waves crash louder as I glance down at my feet, the sand between my toes. They look different somehow.

We stop, and he guides me to face him, his beard speckled with white hairs, the creases at the ends of his eyes deepening when he smiles.

Those eyes. I know those gunmetal eyes.

“Are you here with me, Principessa ?”

I want to say yes, I want to tell him that I know him like I know this sea, but the words are lost…Because I don’t.

The waves crash again and this time they shatter something within me. I squeeze his hand tighter and I wonder if I’m holding on for him, or for me.

“I’m…I’m scared .” I glance back at the ocean, the moonlight reflecting off the dark waves. “I…”

There’s a sadness behind his eyes, but he doesn’t show it on his face when he smiles.

“In the quietest moments and in the loudest ones, Principessa. ”

I smile back, his lingering words like a key rattling a lock I didn’t place there myself.

RAFAEL — ONE YEAR LATER

We take it for granted. Everything. From waking up to taking a breath, especially down to the people we love. We take for granted everything that we know our lives to be and it’s just my luck that I ended up on the side where I didn’t take what I had for granted. I went for what I wanted and in the end, I got it.

Was it in the way I envisioned? Most definitely not.

Nevertheless, I got the girl.

And she was mine. Even if it was for what felt like a moment. She was mine.

The human mind is a maze and a constant wonder, but even though hers had begun to deteriorate, mine was still intact. The memories of us are like a reel of film, playing in my mind anytime I want to relive our time together because I remember it all. From the moment she smiled at me on the ferry to the heartache I felt as I watched her bleed out in front of me.

As I clasp her ring in my hand, a cold breeze blows over the mountaintop of Falcon’s Keep. I close my eyes as it sweeps beneath me and carries the rustling leaves into the air. It seems dull now, the water lifeless like the waves don’t have that same vitality they once did years ago. It’s almost like the island itself knew when she drew her last breath, and as much as I would like to join her in the afterlife, there are still ties I have here.

“ Papà , it’s going to storm. Come back inside,” Stella calls from behind me.

“I will, amore mio .”

Her footsteps fade and a bolt of lightning lights up the night sky as thunder follows. She used to love the storms, even among the worst ones, she would pull up a chair by the large windows and watch as the rain drenched everything in sight. She used to call it a cleanse, a purifying and healing of our sins. She had hope, more than I did, that we would end up together wherever she is now, but I have my doubts. I know she’s in a better place because she’s amongst the good ones. She had everything that made her a good person.

But me…I’m everything she wasn’t, and why she chose me still puzzles me today. She was ready to give it all up––no, she did give it all up—for everything she stood against because it meant that we could be together.

Her doctor said it was a matter of when and not if. In those with early-onset symptoms, the disease is a lot more aggressive and progresses a lot faster than in an average person. It eats away at the brain, neutralising it, leaving the person a shell of who they once were.

A part of me will always wonder what my life would be now if I never kissed her or touched her…but I have this intense feeling in my stomach I wouldn’t be alive to see this day. I wouldn’t have the air in my lungs or the wind in my face, nor would I be able to watch my children grow to make a life of their own. She made me a father, something I never saw myself being. When our first was born, I spent the entire year of her life worrying over her, sleeping beside her crib to make sure she was breathing and thinking about how I needed to get her off this godforsaken island. Eventually, that fear faded as our ties and position with Erhan grew stronger.

“ Papà ,” Stella calls out to me again, and I release the ring around my necklace as the rain begins to fall just as I make it to the front of the manor.

Stella smiles, her beautiful stormy eyes the same shade as her mother’s staring back at me. It’s been a year since her death, and even now, she haunts me in the best of ways through the legacy she’s left behind in our kids.

There’s a stinging behind my eyes as I watch Ezra and Nicholas teach my youngest how to play rummy as his sister carries my granddaughter in her arms, swaying her gently back and forth.

“Hey, you.” Darcy places her hand on my shoulder, and I give her a small smile.

She looks the same.

Well, her smile lines are a little more defined, as is the wisdom surrounding her irises as she smiles back at me.

“I guess we all have our time.”

“If you believe in that shit.” Nicholas approaches and pulls me into a strong embrace. I hold him for a little longer than I normally would, and he doesn’t release me, sensing that I need this more than I ever have. “I’m sorry, brother,” he says in a low voice and pulls back.

I don’t know what I would have done without my brothers. When I met them, I wanted nothing to do with them, but what they say is true. Blood is thicker than water, and regardless of our loyalties, they never once wavered in theirs upon learning of the fact that we were related. It took time, but we eventually worked through our issues.

“Look at what you both have created,” Darcy says softly as we stand and observe the chatter in the room, the laughter from my son, and the genuine smile on Ezra’s face.

Dante meets my gaze and nods, acknowledging our shared grief. It’s been rocky ever since I admitted my feelings for his sister, but goddammit, Nera’s optimistic self has rubbed off on me over all these years. I know even though he hated me, the shared experiences and trauma tie us together, bonding us even further than death.

“Shall we?” Aries holds out a tray of baked goods and we all gather around a table, Nino and Santi standing beside Dante, all my brothers under one roof.

“You all better fucking eat the lamingtons. I swear if there’s even one left, I’m never bringing them again.” Nicholas points to the lamington cake and Darcy laughs.

Over the years, we held birthdays, anniversaries, and important holidays all together as one messed-up family at Nera’s request, wanting everyone under one roof. I know she did it for me.

I knew she understood how alone I felt all my life, and when she began to forget, she didn’t want me to be alone again. Fuck, I love her so much for that and for everything she ever was.

“Raf, anything you want to say before we dig in?” Nino asks.

Usually, Nera was the one with the words. She was the glue that kept us together. I spent a month after her death in silence. Locked myself in the greenhouse for days on end, just replaying our life together, shutting out my entire family because I couldn’t stand that she and I didn’t walk the same ground anymore.

I take a breath and swallow the rock forming in my throat as they all wait.

“Nera was everything I wasn’t.” I chuckle. “She was the best thing to ever happen to me. Without her these three hundred and sixty-five days, I’ve felt like a piece of me was missing. Like a constant pull from deep within, she calls to me even from her resting place. Some nights, I find myself kneeling before her tomb, praying to get an hour just to hold her, to tell her I love her.”

Stella weaves her hand in mine as a cool tear glides over my cheek.

“The world saw us as a sin like some sort of abomination, but the only atrocity she saw was how cruel the world and life could be. She saw the good in everyone, almost like she was reflecting a piece of herself onto each person she ever met.”

My jaw works as I find the rest of my words beneath all my grief.

“She made life worth living. She was my teacher, my lover, and my best friend. She may have left this world, but she’ll always remain right here.” I place my hand on my chest, the thumping beneath it reminding me I’m here for a reason.

I’ve never been this open and honest with anyone besides Nera, and instead of feeling vulnerable or embarrassed for showing my brothers my naked grief, I’m grateful to have these emotions because grief and loss are clear signs of love and affection, of loving and being loved in return.

Ezra raises his glass and the rest all follow.

“The most beautiful soul I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing in the most prosperous life I could have ever asked for,” I add, raising my glass and ignoring the lump in my throat. “To Nera Della Torre.”