Broken Strings

T H E F U N E R A L

"You can love someone so much. But you can never love people as much as you can miss them."

- J. G. 

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Andrew rubbed his forehead, keeping his gaze on the ground. He hadn't spoken a single word after the funeral. Not a single word to his parents, to Anisha's parents and nor to his children. 

And now, his feet were frozen as he stood just beside where she lay, deep within the ground. 

"Drew?" He barely looked up, his eyes still on the gravestone.

Anisha Hayes. 

Loving daughter, wife and mother.

Wife. His wife. His wife. 

She was gone.

His lips parted, his chest tightening as he barely acknowledged his mother. Anisha's mother standing beside her. 

"Andrew." His mother's voice was gentle as she slowly reached for him, squeezing his hand. He didn't say anything, simply just standing there, shaking, a harsh whimper escaping his lips as his mother gave him a pitiful look.

That's all there was to him. Pity, guilt and regret.

His eyes, blurry, yet focused on the gravestone.

And he wanted nothing more than to have Anisha hold him. To have her run her hand through his hair, to have her place small kisses against his forehead. Nothing more than to have her tell him that she loved him.

But there was none of that. She was gone. 

Anisha was gone. 

The only thing he could remember was her bony hands, her broken smile, her dull eyes.

Because of the marriage he'd fucked up. Because of the mistakes he'd made to ruin the woman he loved. 

Andrew stood there, shuffling his feet, breaking into a sob as his mother held onto him.

He didn't say anything. Instead, he covered his eyes, placing his hand over his eyes. Shaking with regret.

He could see glimpses of her. 

Shy smile as she bit down on her lip, reluctantly agreeing to go on a date with him. Eyes sparkling as he kissed her, under the stars. Twirling her around as he held her, promising her he was going to marry her one day. Blurry eyes as she found about his affair. Tired hands as she held onto him, promising him that they'd be okay. Dull tears as she let go of him and all the promises he'd ever made.

He slowly pulled away from his mother, his eyes set on the ground again, deep in the ground where she lay.

"Can you take Ryan and Mira home?" His voice was barely audible. 

"Andrew." He hated the way his mother stressed his name, full of disappointment. 

"Please. I'll be home soon." Drunk. Just like he had been for the last week. A mess, without her. Because when he was sober, the only thing he felt was anguish. And regret, for being the fuck-up he was.