𝚂𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚊 (slow updates)

I

"Thanks be to God. Oh God, whose blessed Son was laid in a tomb in the garden: Bless, we pray, this grave, and grant that he/she whose body is to be buried here may dwell with Christ in paradise, and may come to thy heavenly kingdom; through your Son Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

I've heard that statement more times than I can count, it was a blessing over the dead that Catholics would say at funerals. Parish Priest would stand at the altar, blessing the family and those whose lives had been damaged by such a tragic death.

Priest spread across the front of the sanctuary, their clothes white with gold stain stripes from front to back. Many had Bibles in their hands and others gifts as they stood with their heads down praying and the ones with free hands pressed them together in reverend.

"Please stand," a deacon said. Shuffling pushed through the church as the crowd bowed their heads in respect as the deacon began to put a cover on the casket with a big gold cross in the middle. 'Hail Mary' 'Our Father' and 'Glory Be' were spoken as the Pope stood.

He cleared his throat and beamed towards the crowd before speaking. " I am devastated by the death of this brilliant man." He started, his voice was enchanting. " I was with him since he was baptized in Italy. I was the one to baptize him."

"When I had heard this precious soul had died, a piece of me had been torn. I've been with the Lockwoods since my papal conclave and he's been the best of them along with his father. I was the first to be invited to his wedding, second to his mother." He cheesed addressing my mother-in-law and I.

Eleanora, my mother-in-law, was your regular Italian mother. She loved all her children, but something about the youngest son bought possessive tendencies. Since our first encounter, I knew she favored him, the unnecessary compliments with gifts, her need to make him feel right always, and the first-ever sentence she said to me.

"Don't think you can steal my piccolo figlio away." [little son]

"Oh my, come I know you have much to say," he gestured toward Eleanora. She refused but he insisted so the deacons led her to the pulpit. The crowd clapped at her braveness in speaking about her deceased son. When she reached the Pope, she threw herself on for 'comfort' and kissed his cheeks.

"Well, I have a lot to say in such a short time. As many of you know Damon is the is my last child and the moment I looked at him I knew he was perfect." her voice cracked as she reminisced. I heard angry muffles at my side and I looked to see three of my sister-in-laws appalled.

Damon is not her youngest child, she gave birth to three girls after him. Eleanora noticed their appalling but brushed it off as a grieving mechanism. "Since he was a bambino, I've always been proud of him. He was my first child not to cry when getting baptized and being the first to have a job at 13." [child]

The crowd cooed at the fondness in her voice, although they were only accomplishments Eleanora found extraordinary. "He was a straight-A student in an American School and was Valedictorian in height school and college." she struggled with her words, fighting through tears although her English wasn't perfect.

She continued to rant, talking about his life and what she saw through her eyes. He played three sports from elementary to high school but stopped to focus on college. He majored in business and engineering and minored in physiology.

But what stood out the most in her speech was the mention of her husband, my father-in-law. Eleanora touched on how they were similar in almost every aspect. Genetics, the pursuit of career, and the name which was mainly Eleanora's doing.

The similarities in the pair were extra extraordinary, if it weren't for the age gap they could've been identical twins. Maybe that's why she has such an attachment towards Damon because she sees the man she loves in her son. Perhaps she wants to cherish every physical representation of her husband as long as she can.

"Oh, that was a wonderful speech, Eleanora. If you need anything I will be here. You know I'm already always watching," he chuckled, causing the crowd the join him.

Time had almost passed, almost every pew came to speak in honor of Damon. They expressed their relationship with him and every good deed he's done for them. The funeral ended moments later with the priest speaking and the Pope closing.

Groups started to form throughout the sanctuary as people talked about the service and how wonderful it was. Elders and children came to hug Eleanora and her children, telling them the generic statements: "If you need anything we're here." or "Things will get better, it just takes time."

I stayed seated while everyone else made their way to the exit, my family had announced a dinner at 7 o'clock to celebrate Damon making it to heaven. Although I wasn't religious, I knew he belonged there, that's the perfect place to live eternally. I peaked at the ceiling, sitting in this emotion of heartbreak and discomfort.

"GiaNinna," I turn, seeing the Pope striding towards me with a gift. He gave a greeting smile and I returned it. "He's at peace," he said. He wanted to convert with me and I expected that but at church?

He walks closer giving me the gift and I take it, thanking him. "Are you conflicted on something?" he questions. I knew his questions were coming. "You've said nothing the whole service, is there something you would like to confess?" I said nothing but he pushed me for an answer, taking a seat to my right.

"What would you like me to say?" I was irritated. "My husband of six years is dead and I found him. No doctor or morgue can figure out why, so his death remained unknown. I haven't been able to get a word in since I told my family of his passing." I started to list the struggles I've had.

"Yes, that is very challenging." His response was dry, I could tell he wanted a different answer. "His family and the media believe I was the one to kill him. I've been getting stares since I walked in. A woman was even bold enough to threaten my life."

"You keeping quiet doesn't help Mrs. Lockwood," he commented. That's true but saying something wouldn't help either. "I know there's something in you, a secret you've been hiding. I know you loved him deeply, so why this reaction?"

Although he was getting to me, I remained unfazed. "That gift was from your husband, he showed me that before the wedding. However, I told him not to give it to you but I know you'll love it now." He came closer, his breath hitting my face.

"His Holiness," a deep European accent spoke. We both turned and met a bowing Elio. "Oh my. Elio, it's so nice to see you again." The Pope rose hugging Elio.

Elio is Damon's butler and he's been here since he was a babe. I've grown fond of Elio throughout the six years we've known each other. He's a Lockwood but not by blood, however he's the only Lockwood that likes me.

"That's statement would be reciprocated but I've done terrible sins," Elio pouted, moving his blond hair away from his face. "I'm sure you don't regret any of them," The Pope joked.

"Oh, you bet," Elio wicked. Elio came inform the Pope that he was needed at the front. He dismissed himself but not before reminding me that the conversation wasn't over. When the door clicked I sighed in relief.

"They're talking shit about you outside," Elio revealed but I wasn't surprised. I shrugged, reaching in my purse for a cigarette and matches. "Sorry I couldn't attend the funeral the paparazzi were trying to break in, security needed my help."

"I understand but they're still out there so why are you here?" I inhaled the smoke after speaking. "Eleanora said it's time to leave and I'm here to escort." I chuckled because thinks I'll willingly spend time with her.

"No thank you," I say, sliding shades onto my eyes and standing. Elio knew that would be my response but continued. "There is a mandatory family meeting before the dinner regarding Damon's will."

"Okay? I don't need to be there, I know half his belongings will go to his family." I huff bitterly because that's reality. After I walk away from this building, I will go back to being broke and broken. "You are his family," Elio spoke, stopping me before I passed. Elio gave me a pleading look that I wanted to reject but I complied.

"Fine but this the last time," I said sternly, putting out my cigarette in a pew and throwing the remains where ever. "But for real, they were talking so much merde about you-" I knew he would exaggerate before he finished his sentence. [shit]

"Okay enough!" I yelled playfully.