Chapter 3: The Funeral Chapter

Kathalina didn't know how she managed the funeral. Everything felt like a blur, as if she were walking through someone else's dream. The day seemed too quiet, too unreal. The sun hid behind gray clouds, and the rain fell with a steady rhythm, sliding down black umbrellas and dripping onto the stone steps of the church.

Inside, candles flickered in tall stands. The smell of melting wax and flowers filled the air roses, lilies, and white chrysanthemums. People came and went, their footsteps muffled against the carpet. Some spoke in soft voices, others moved with heavy steps that made the floor creak, but all of them carried the same look in their eyes when they glanced at her......pity.

Friends of her mother hugged her tightly, their arms warm but fleeting. Some patted her shoulder, some pressed her hands, some whispered words like "She was a wonderful woman," or "Your mother loved you very much." Kathalina nodded each time, but she could never hold their gaze for long. She could not remember most of what they said. The words floated past her like smoke, thin and vanishing.

At the front, the casket stood open. Her mother's face was pale and still, lips pressed together in eternal silence. It didn't look like her. It looked like a fragile figure made of porcelain, too cold and distant from the woman who had once been her whole world. The woman who had laughed while brushing her daughter's hair. The woman who had cooked her favorite meals late at night when she returned from school exhausted. The woman who had whispered prayers over her when she was sick.

Kathalina's throat burned. Every time she closed her eyes, that face appeared the stillness, the flowers placed too neatly around the casket, the finality of it all. Her chest ached with hollowness. At first, she had cried endlessly, but now, as the hours dragged on, she could no longer tell if she had stopped crying or if her body had simply run out of tears.

As she sat near the front pew, her hands folded tightly in her lap, she could hear the whispers of people behind her.

"Such a tragedy. So sudden."

"She was so young still. It doesn't feel real."

"Poor Kathalina... left all alone now."

"She doesn't even have her husband with her anymore. Didn't they separate?"

The words struck her like stones. They thought they were whispering low enough, but grief sharpened her ears. Each remark sank into her skin, heavy and cold. She wanted to turn and tell them to stop, but her voice wouldn't come. She kept her eyes on the floor, pretending she hadn't heard.

She knew what they were thinking that she was abandoned, that she had been left behind twice, once by death and once by divorce. A dull shame coiled in her chest. She pressed her hands harder together until her nails bit her palms.

At some point, her mother's best friend, Pia, came to sit beside her. Pia had been in her mother's life for decades. She was a round woman with warm eyes and a soft smile, though today her face was wet with tears. She slid into the pew quietly and placed a hand over Kathalina's trembling ones.

"My dear," Pia said gently, her voice low, "are you alright? Do you need water, or something to eat? You've been sitting here for so long."

Kathalina wanted to answer. She wanted to say no, she wasn't alright, she hadn't been alright for days. But the words stuck like stones in her throat. She swallowed hard and forced a small nod, even though her eyes stung.

"You're so brave," Pia whispered, squeezing her hands. "Your mother would be proud of you. She always said you were her greatest joy. Her little star."

That almost broke her. Her lips trembled, and she bit them until she tasted salt. Brave? She didn't feel brave. She felt broken, as if pieces of herself had scattered with her mother's last breath.

Pia brushed away a tear from her cheek with her thumb.

"She loved you, more than anything. Remember that. Hold on to that love. It will carry you through."

Kathalina nodded again, but her mind raced with doubts. Did Pia know? Did Pia know that her marriage had already shattered, that she was no longer part of the family everyone admired? If Pia knew, would she still look at her with such kindness?

She felt ashamed. Ashamed that she wasn't strong enough, ashamed that she wasn't the perfect daughter her mother had deserved. She wanted to disappear into the wooden pew and never be seen again.

And then, she felt him.

She didn't have to look up to know Thirdie had entered the room. The air seemed to shift the moment he stepped inside heavily, sharp, pressing down on her shoulders. His presence was unmistakable, as if the entire church had acknowledged it. The low murmur of whispers rippled through the crowd again.

"Isn't that Thirdie Stone?"

"He came... after everything?"

Her chest tightened. Her heartbeat faster, painful against her ribs. She could hear his footsteps quiet, deliberate approaching down the aisle. Every muscle in her body tensed, bracing for something she didn't even understand. For a second, she thought she might collapse.

She didn't turn to look, but she felt him draw near, stopping just behind her. His silence was heavy, but it wasn't cruel. It was the kind of silence that spoke of things unspoken, things broken, things too complicated for words.

Pia noticed too. She gave Kathalina's hand another squeeze, then stood and gently stepped aside, leaving the seat empty.

Slowly, carefully, Thirdie lowered himself into the pew beside her. The wood creaked faintly under his weight.

Kathalina kept her eyes fixed on the casket, refusing to glance at him. But she could feel the heat of him at her side, the steadiness of his breath, the faint scent of his colognes, something sharp and familiar, something that unlocked too many memories at once.

For a long while, he didn't say anything. He simply sat there, close but not touching. His presence was steady, like a stone holding back the tide.

Kathalina's throat ached. She wanted to tell him to leave, to remind him that they were no longer bound, that he had no place here anymore. But the words never left her.

Because in truth she didn't mind. Not this time.

Maybe because her heart was too numb to care. Or maybe because grief was bigger than anger, bigger than pride. For once, she didn't want to fight the weight of his presence. She just wanted silence, and he gave her that.

The priest's voice echoed through the church, reciting prayers and passages meant to bring peace. The words floated around her, solemn and distant. People wept quietly, their sniffles blending with the patter of rain against stained glass.

Thirdie remained still beside her. At one moment, when her hands shook so badly, she almost dropped the prayer card, his hand moved slowly, carefully and steadied it. His fingers brushed hers for the briefest second. She froze, breath caught, but he didn't hold on. He withdrew, letting her keep the card.

It was such a small gesture, but it unsettled her deeply. It reminded her of the man she had once trusted, the man who had once stood by her side not just as a husband, but as a friend.

Her vision blurred with tears again. She blinked hard, forcing them away, forcing herself to stay upright.

Later, when the casket was lowered into the ground and the earth began to cover it, Kathalina felt her knees weaken. The rain had turned the soil dark and heavy, clumping together as shovels pressed it down. She stood under her umbrella, barely feeling the drops that splashed against her shoes.

Voices murmured around her, prayers whispered, sobs muffled. Someone touched her shoulder, another handed her a flower to toss into the grave. She let the white rose fall from her hand and watched it land softly on the coffin's lid before disappearing under the soil.

Her world tilted. For a moment, she thought she might collapse into the mud.

But then, a steady hand rested lightly against her elbow. She turned her head slightly, just enough to see Thirdie standing beside her, his expression unreadable but his hold firm, grounding her when her strength faltered.

She wanted to push him away......to insist she didn't need him. But she couldn't. Not now. Not when the emptiness inside her was so vast, it threatened to swallow her whole.

So, she let him stay.

By the time the last of the guests drifted away and the cemetery quietly, Kathalina stood in silence with only Pia and Thirdie nearby. The rain had eased into a mist.... the world was gray and blurred.

Pia hugged her tightly before leaving, whispering once more, "Hold on, my dear. You are not alone."

And then it was just her and Thirdie.

She didn't look at him. She didn't speak. She simply stood, numb and hollow, while he remained at her side, silent and unwavering.

For the first time in a long time, she didn't push him away.

Because grief was bigger than anger, bigger than pride. And for this moment, silence was enough.