Ana Oliveira

Present day...


I thought my heart had already been shattered so many times that it was impossible for anything to break it further, but there were still intact pieces capable of withstanding more blows. And that's exactly what happened. Bernardo’s death shattered a little bit of each one of us.
I was so terrified of attending the funeral that I almost gave up. But Josiah gripped my hand as if he was sustaining himself with my body, as if not attending the farewell wasn’t an option. A profound fear swept through me as I faced Leda, sitting on a bench a few meters from Isabela and me. I didn’t even have the courage to approach Bernardo’s mother to say something, a single word of comfort. I was plagued by a cruel ghost named Guilt, making me fear people’s reactions and judgment. I knew my innocence and had already named the real culprit, but how many people actually believed me?
I prayed desperately to God that I wouldn’t have to enter a cemetery again, that I wouldn’t have to face someone I loved leaving. But I knew it was a foolish wish—people die, and it’s an unavoidable consequence, an uncontrollable act of life. I watched Josiah hunched over his friend’s body. It was so painful to see my love there, sobbing and desolate. His face showed so much pain.
I knew loss like no one else. It was the sensation of an incredibly strong wind sweeping through life, messing things up, taking away loved ones without any warning, without any chance for goodbye. You feel wronged, nostalgic, and outraged by the helplessness in the face of death. Because death is an uncontrollable force... There’s no way to remedy it, no way to predict it.
I would define grief as devastation. Like a heavy force that arrives and takes away brightness, light, and hope. And there’s nothing, absolutely nothing, that can bring any comfort when it comes to losing someone. Things may lessen, but nothing will ever comfort the loss of a person. Because people are unique, and Bernardo was someone very unique and irreplaceable.
My heart was tight, and I relied on all the strength I had left to keep at bay the automatic thoughts of guilt that insisted on appearing, telling me that I had caused my estrangement from Ber by not clearing up misunderstandings. By letting my pride reign, by not reaching out to shout that I had been wronged. I had kept the barrier between us up, and I couldn’t even remember the last time I saw him.
I felt shattered realizing how many things could have been avoided with a simple conversation. How many villains could have been unmasked with the simple act of bringing everyone together and “washing dirty laundry”? How much pain could have been avoided if pride had been set aside and I had just reached out to people and told my side of the story?
A tear rolled down as I held back my thoughts, watching Isabela run out of the chapel. She was too nervous, trembling all over, and had been eating sweets uncontrollably since yesterday, to the point of getting a severe headache. Even the aspirin I gave her wasn’t helping with the pain. I knew Bill would contain her outside. He had been keeping an eye on Isa at the door and had agreed to take her home and not leave her alone under any circumstances. When he nodded at me, removing his black cap in the process, I understood that he would be taking Isa away at that moment.
It was good that she wouldn’t see what was about to happen. That she wouldn’t witness the chaos that was about to take over everything.
I felt the blaze in my chest. It fought with the pain of grief, wanting to unleash and set everything on fire, wanting to go after that damn Luana and confront that bitch. I was like a witch playing with fire, taming the flame until the right moment to let the demon loose.
I took one last look at Jow, who was leaning over the coffin, whispering something to Bernardo. I didn’t want to get close, and it might seem selfish not to want to see the lifeless body up close, but if I did, if I went near to say goodbye, I would be unable to keep my shields up and would collapse. I had to be like a wall coated in titanium; after all, I still had a snake to unmask.
I closed my eyes and murmured a farewell. I knew that wherever Bernardo was, his spirit would hear. I apologized for our misunderstandings, for not remembering the last time I saw him, for not being mature. I wished light for his spirit, that he would rest and bring joy in heaven. I apologized for not wanting to witness his burial, but I knew he would understand. My traumas were too great to stay there and hurt me.

I stood up from the bench, feeling a weight lifted off my shoulders as I finally stepped outside the chapel, letting the sunlight kiss my face. I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling the gentle breeze lift the hem of my black dress to my knees. When I opened my eyes and took a deep breath, I noticed Harry in the distance. He was standing in front of a row of perpetual graves made of black marble.
I walked towards him slowly, watching him wipe away the tears that had slipped beneath his sunglasses, trying to maintain his unbreakable facade. He was wearing jeans and a black tank top, standing tall in heavy boots. I stopped in front of him, nearly sneezing from the strong, citrusy scent of his cologne.
Harry was at the top of the cement ramp that led into the cemetery. I began talking to him, going over the details about Luana and discussing the plans for what would happen next. I let a few tears escape as we talked, startled by Josiah’s arms suddenly wrapping around me from behind. The way he pulled me close, pressing my back against his chest, and cried on my shoulder shattered me. I tried not to sob, but Harry broke down before I could, letting his pain escape through his slender frame.
“The kid was really something, damn it...” Harry sobbed.
“He was,” I whispered.