Till Death do us Apart

CEMETERY — RAINY AFTERNOON

The rain fell in steady sheets, soaking through black umbrellas and dark coats.

Rows of mourners stood quietly as the priest finished his final words.

“May his soul rest in peace,” Father Santiago said softly. His voice was almost drowned out by the sound of thunder.

The coffin was lowered slowly into the muddy ground.

Amelia stood motionless, her black veil clinging to her tear-streaked face. Her hands trembled as she held onto Leo’s little fingers.

“Say goodbye to your father, baby,” she whispered.

Leo looked up at her, his small face wet with rain and tears. “But, Mama… he promised he’d take me to the zoo after the wedding.”

Amelia’s heart twisted. She knelt beside him, brushing the hair from his forehead. “I know, sweetheart,” she said softly. “He’ll still watch over you… just from heaven now.”

Eduardo stepped closer, his own face lined with grief. “Mija,” he said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. “It’s time to go. You’ve been out here long enough.”

But Amelia didn’t move. Her eyes stayed on the coffin until the last bit of soil covered it.

Her lips trembled. “Till death do us apart, Miguel,” she whispered.

Then, the sound of heels clicked against the wet pavement.

Whispers rippled through the crowd.

Katherina Blackwood appeared under a large black umbrella, dressed in a fitted mourning dress. Her mother, Altricia, walked beside her cold, composed, and out of place among the mourners.

Amelia froze. The sight of them made her blood boil.

Eduardo frowned. “What the hell are they doing here?”

Katherina’s voice was soft and harsh . “We came to pay our respects. Miguel was family at least, once.”

Amelia’s jaw clenched. “Don’t you dare,” she said, her voice trembling with rage. She stepped forward, her veil dripping with rain. “Don’t you dare act like you cared about him.”

Altricia sighed, straightening her gloves with icy calm. “Amelia, this isn’t the place for theatrics. My daughter only came to pay her respects to your late husband.”

“Pay respects?” Amelia’s voice cracked with rage. “To what pretend to grieve? Pretend she didn’t destroy everything? He’s dead because of you two!”

Gasps rippled through the mourners.

Katherina’s face darkened. “You’ve completely lost your mind,” she hissed. “How dare you accuse me of that?”

Amelia stepped closer, eyes burning. “You wanted him gone, Katherina. You couldn’t stand to see me happily married while you lost everything that mattered to you.”

“Enough!” Altricia snapped, her voice sharp. “We will not be humiliated like this. Not here.”

Eduardo caught Amelia’s arm, his voice low and pleading. “Mija, please. This isn’t the time.”

Amelia jerked away, shouting, “No, Papá! This is exactly the time! He’s gone and they’re standing here pretending to mourn when they’re the ones who killed him!”

Rain poured harder. Katherina’s umbrella slipped, soaking her hair and silk dress. “You think too highly of yourself,” she said coldly. “Not everything revolves around you, Amelia. Miguel made plenty of enemies.”

Amelia’s eyes blazed with fury. “And you were one of them.”

Before anyone could stop her, Amelia grabbed a handful of wet soil and hurled it at Katherina. It splattered across her dress and pearls, muddying her perfect image.

The crowd gasped. Umbrellas shifted. Whispers spread through the rain like wildfire.

Katherina’s face twisted with rage. “You pathetic widow how dare you throw that dirty soil on me!”

Before she could say more, Eduardo stepped between them, his voice booming, “That’s enough! All of you!”

The priest raised his hands, nervously. “Please this is sacred ground.”

Amelia’s tears kept coming. She stared at Miguel’s grave, voice barely a whisper. “I’ll find out who did this. I swear it, Miguel. I’ll make them pay.”

Katherina glared while her mother tugged her arm. “Come, Katherina. Let the dead rest and let the foolish drown in their own grief.”

As they turned to leave, Amelia shouted after them, her voice raw with anger.

“Run while you can. I’m not done with either of you!”

Her words rolled over the wet ground and hung in the cold air

LATER THAT AFTERNOON

The rain had slowed to a drizzle. Amelia stood beside the car, her black dress still damp, when a man in a suit approached holding a bouquet of white roses.

“From Mr. Blackwood,” he said politely, offering them to her.

Amelia hesitated, then took the flowers with shaky hands. A small card slipped out and fell into a puddle. She bent down, picked it up, and read the neat handwriting:

For comfort and strength Damien.

Her jaw tightened. “Comfort and strength?” she muttered bitterly. “Do I look weak to anyone?”

Her eyes went cold. She crushed the card in her fist and looked up at the assistant.

“Tell him,” she said sharply. “I don’t need his pity.”

The assistant blinked, unsure what to say. “Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled before hurrying off.

Ariana groaned, resting her hand on her swollen belly. “Good. Send him and his fake sympathy right back where they came from. Honestly, if I weren’t eight months pregnant, I’d throw those roses at his smug face myself.”

Amelia almost smiled, but her lips trembled instead. “You should sit down, Ari. You’re soaked.”

“Sit down?” Ariana snorted. “I can barely bend at this point. My feet are so swollen I can’t even tell where my shoes end and my toes begin. If this baby doesn’t come soon, I swear I’ll start crying in public like you.”

She meant it as a joke, but when she saw Amelia’s face break again, her voice softened. “Hey… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. Come here.”

She pulled Amelia into a hug, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

Amelia’s body shook as she whispered, “He didn’t even finish his vows, Ari… one second he was smiling at me, and the next—”

Ariana held her tighter. “I know. You’ve been through hell. But listen to me you’re not alone, okay? You still have Leo. You still have us.”

Ariana wrapped her arm around Amelia’s shoulders and pulled her close. “You’ve been through hell, honey,” she said softly. “I know you loved him. You have every right to be angry at fate, at the world, at whoever took him from you.”

Amelia wiped her tears roughly with the back of her hand. “He didn’t even finish his vows, Ariana,” she whispered. “One second he was smiling at me… and the next—”

Her voice cracked. She pressed her forehead to Ariana’s shoulder, sobbing quietly.

Ariana rubbed her back gently. “I know,” she said. “I saw the news, Amelia. Everyone did. The whole world’s talking about ‘the bride whose groom died at the altar.’ It’s cruel. You didn’t want fame you just wanted love.”

Amelia sniffed, trying to calm herself, when Ariana suddenly gasped. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “Don’t look now, but there’s a tattooed handsome guy walking this way.”

Amelia frowned, wiping her eyes. “Ariana, you’re pregnant! And you’re checking out men?”