CHAPTER 67: VISIT TO THE GRAVEYARD.

~ ANNIKA ~

After telling the kids who Pa James was, I signed them out and we headed to the car. Pippa got her lollipop while they took Powell's drawing to hang on the wall after I gave them permission.

I wanted to refuse, but his eyes sparkled so much at the offer that I couldn't say no. Besides, I had more than enough of his drawings hanging on my own walls. If I ever needed more, I could just ask him to draw another one for me.

"Are we using your car or mine?" Angelo asked when we got to him. He stepped away from his car, smiling as he glanced at the kids, who waved shyly back at him.

"I will drive my kids. We will follow your car," I said without missing a beat. There was no use debating it.

He looked disappointed. I could tell he wanted to be in the same car as us, but he didn't protest. Nodding, he walked to his car while I helped my kids into mine and buckled them up.

"Why is Mr. Angelo going with us?" Powell asked once I was in the driver's seat.

"He knows who Pa James is," I replied with a smile. "Not only that, but he's the only one who knows where he was laid to rest."

"Oh, that's good." Pippa relaxed back in her seat. "Mum, why did you say he was a dangerous man?"

"Yeah, why did you call him that when he's not bad? He even helped us when you were gone!" Powell added. I sighed. "He's not that awful."

"But you said he was dangerous!" Powell insisted, eager to know why I'd called him that. "Did he do something wrong, Mum?"

"Not at all." I smiled at them through the rearview mirror, keeping one eye on the road and the other on Angelo's car. "I just didn't trust him enough. Don't worry, he won't hurt you. He's not that bad."

"Oh."

They didn't say anything else after that. They silently watched the cars zooming past us, nodding along to the music I was playing. The ride to the cemetery took us only thirty minutes.

"We're here," I announced, parking my car next to Angelo's. "Let's go, kids."

I got out and opened their doors, helping them unbuckle before they got out. Angelo was already out, waiting for us by his car. He walked over, smiling as he ruffled their hair.

"Let's go." He turned and strode down the path, and I hurried to keep up with him while holding the kids' hands. The cemetery wasn't as spooky as the ones in movies.

In fact, as I walked through the entrance, a sense of serenity washed over me. The soft rustle of leaves and the chirping of birds filled the air, a stark contrast to the somber atmosphere that lay beneath.

I looked down at the kids, who didn't seem as scared as I thought they'd be. Before we left school, I had asked if they wanted to come with me or stay with Julie at home, but they refused. They wanted to meet Pa James.

"Mum, why is it so silent?" Pippa whispered, the wind carrying her voice and creating a chilling echo.

"Because it's a cemetery, silly," Powell answered before I could. "Have you forgotten what Miss Agatha taught us? She said a graveyard is the most silent place in the entire world."

"Oh, I get it now."

Smiling at my babies, I hurried after Angelo. The winding path led us through rows of weathered headstones. Each one told a story of love, loss, and remembrance. I noticed the varying sizes and shapes, some grand and ornate, others simple and humble.

The names, dates, and epitaphs blurred together as we passed by, but one grave stood out, the one we were approaching.

Pippa asked more questions as we walked, and I answered to the best of my ability, keeping pace with Angelo. The deeper we went, the faster his steps became until I could almost sense the urgency in his stride.

He slowed down when we came to a particular grave, turning to look at me, his gaze urging me to walk faster. I hurried over to him and stopped at the grave he was looking down at.

My kids looked up at us with curious eyes, as if sensing the gravity of the moment. We stopped in front of a grave adorned with fresh flowers and a familiar name.

I drew in a deep breath, feeling a lump form in my throat as memories flooded my mind. I remembered the first time I met Pa James and how we clicked. He was the only one who had ever seen me as a human.

"Pa James," I sighed, letting go of my kids' hands so I could kneel in front of his grave. In my haste, I had forgotten to pick up flowers on the way. "I'm sorry," I whispered, staring at the familiar picture. It was the one he took on his 60th birthday.

I reached out to stroke it as more tears streamed down my face. "I'm sorry it took me so long to come back," I continued, sniffing.

Angelo and my kids stood behind me and watched me cry, apologizing to Pa James. I hadn't realized how much I had been holding in until this moment. I couldn't keep the emotions inside anymore.

"It's okay, Mummy," Pippa said, taking my hand. Powell wiped my tears while consoling me. "Stop crying, Mum."

Angelo took the kids out of the cemetery to give me some time alone with Pa James. Even though I didn't ask him, he knew it was what I needed.

I stood alone in the quiet graveyard, surrounded by the silence of the departed.

My eyes were fixed on the grave before me. The name etched in stone was a reminder of the person I had lost. My heart felt like it was drowning in a sea of grief, and the weight of guilt was crushing me.

Five years ago, I made the hardest decision of my life,I left. I thought I was doing what was best for me, for my future. But now, I was consumed by the feeling that my departure was the reason he died.

What if I had stayed? What if I had been there for him? Would he still be alive? Even if he died, would he have died happy?

Tears streamed down my face as I relived the memories we shared. I remembered his smile, his laughter, his unwavering support. I felt like I had abandoned him when he needed me most.

The pain of losing him was suffocating, and the guilt was eating away at me. I reached out to touch the headstone, as if it could connect me to him once more. "I'm so sorry," I whispered, the words barely audible. "I was so selfish. I should have been there for you."

The wind whispered through the trees, as if responding to my questions. I could only stand there, consumed by sorrow and regret, wondering what could have been if only I had stayed.

But I knew it wasn't my fault. I did it for my babies. Had I not left, I would have been the one in the grave, and my children wouldn't have been born.

"I'm sorry, Pa James. I hope you can find a place in your heart to forgive me." I wiped the tears from my face, forcing a smile.

"Did you see your great-grandkids? I brought them to meet you. They are grown up now. You don't have to worry about me anymore. I will make sure I tell them about you. You will forever be remembered."