Chapter 24
Teresa struck a match and lit a candle, casting a warm light over the wreaths and the beef. The candle served as a symbol of honoring loved ones, its smoke rising gently and dispersing into the atmosphere. With the last of the smoke clearing, Teresa thought to herself, "What does life amount to? Ultimately, we all turn to…"
A sudden gust of wind carried a wave of smoke towards Teresa, making her cough and her head jerk up. Jonathan was there in an instant, stepping in front of her and pulling her back. “Stay back,” he commanded, his arm outstretched to protect her from the smoke, “I’ll handle this.”
Teresa glanced at Jonathan’s hand on her arm, then slipped away, the warmth of his touch lingering. The candles were now just a few melted stubs. Jonathan grabbed a water bottle, dousing the grave to extinguish the last of the embers.
Beside the grave marker, Jonathan’s tone was somber and laden with sentiment. “Bradley, Natalie, work kept me away last year,” he murmured. “Now I’m on solid ground and will take care of Teresa. You can both be at peace, knowing she’s well taken care of.”
Teresa’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, her hands balled into fists at her sides, as she struggled to keep her composure. The memories assaulted her—vivid and painful.
“To make a fortune and give Teresa the life she deserves,” Jonathan had vowed to her grandparents in the early days of their marriage, his hand on her shoulder, his voice full of conviction. "Not this year, but it’s still not enough. I’ll earn more, don’t worry.”
The next year, he’d said. "I've made some money…" But as time went on, the money came, but at what cost? Their marriage had fallen apart, and her grandparents were now gone.
The memorial service had ended, leaving only two smiling photos on the tombstone as a reminder of what had been lost.
Jonathan looked at Teresa, his voice gentle. “Aren’t you going to call your dad? Isn’t he coming?”
Teresa’s eyes turned cold, a bitter smile playing on her lips as she replied, “On a day like this, do I really need to remind him? All he cares about is money. My grandparents? They’re just a blur to him.”
Jonathan’s face turned solemn, and with a decisive nod, he declared, “Forget about him. Let’s go.”
Teresa spoke softly to the tombstone, her voice filled with affection. “Grandpa, Grandma, we’re setting off now. I’m doing well, so don’t fret about me,” she comforted them, giving a respectful bow as the breeze carried away the carnation petals at her feet.
With the car door closed, Teresa sensed the cold receding. Her hands, numb from the chill, started to regain feeling as the heater that Jonathan had turned on began to fill the car with comforting warmth.
The drive from Chesburg to Narcigh was a peaceful hour on the highway, punctuated only by the tires’ hum. Teresa leaned back with her eyes closed, her exhaustion evident in the shadows under her eyes. Jonathan, observing her fatigue, showed his worry with a creased brow.
Upon arriving at Rosary Estates, Jonathan tenderly stroked Teresa’s cheek, and it was this gentle touch that stirred her from her sleep. She yawned, rubbing her eyes, and mumbled, “Are we there?”
With a smile, Jonathan replied, “We’re home,” as he withdrew his hand. Their eyes met, and for a heartbeat, it was like they were back together. But reality quickly intruded, and Teresa shook off the feeling.
“I should go,” Teresa said firmly. “Thanks for what you said at the gravesite. I know it was to comfort them. Now they can rest in peace.” After a pause, she added, “There’s no reason for us to keep meeting…”
But before she could open the door, Jonathan caught her hand, holding her in place.