Married To The Mafia...?

My body was numb, everything hurt and stung and didn't feel at all. I was scared, my nerves were completely shot and every part of me trembled.

"My- my parents thought you should keep it," Marcus' eyes were warm and filled with sympathy as he placed the dark wooden box upon the table. "They figured with everything, how hard it's been. Maybe you could keep him here a while before they... Well you know."

My throat ceased over and eyes watered. I couldn't do this, I couldn't take it. I stared over the wooden box in the center of the table, it was plain dark wood that seemed almost elegant. It was perfect and yet it didn't suit him, it didn't hold his vibe, it didn't reflect him at all. Then again how could an urn holding my late husband's ashes ever do his life justice.

"I-I." I coughed to clear the lump in my throat, "I don't think I can."

Marcus looked over at me with sad eyes, quickly he crossed the room and wrapped his arms tightly around my shoulders. He was absolutely everything a brother ought to be, he was caring and gentle, protective and stern. He knew what to say, what to do in exactly the right time.

My eyes peered over my brother-in-laws tall shoulder, they captured the over sized wedding photograph above the fire place and I felt myself melt. Ethan's smile made my heart flutter almost instantly, he looked truly happy, content even just there in the moment. I would have given absolutely anything to see the sheer adoration in his eyes looking directly into my own once more.

The arms around my shoulders fell away slightly and I felt Marcus' hand briefly wipe at the loose tears that had managed to escape my dark lids. I was more aware of the simple silver band upon his ring finger. Marcus had been married for as long as I could recall, he was significantly older than both Ethan and I, aging well at thirty. His wife was rarely seen, she kept to herself and travelled from country to country. I had met her a possible four times.

Weight upon my own left hand brought my eyes bribing downward at the two silver rings upon my hand. One was simple with a large princess cut diamond- my diamond. the other an even more simple plain silver band, the inside engraved with our names.

"What, what happened to his wedding ring?" My voice was soft as Marcus pulled me over to the sofa, allowing my knees to give out and to collapse upon the cushions.

"I don't know. If you don't have them, maybe he was cremated with them."

There were no words that I could say so slowly I simply nodded my head. 

"Will you be alright here? I can get Emmanuel to come keep you company for a while." Marcus Radev checked his watch quickly. "I've got to be an the airport to pick up Lillian."

"Could you," I smiled at the mention of his wife. "Could you call Emmanuel?"

Marcus simply nodded, left a kiss upon my head and walked out of the penthouse completely leaving me by myself and a box filled with all that physically remained of Ethan.

I didn't move for fifteen minutes. My eyes stared blankly upon the box, it made me uncomfortable and feel generously awkward just sitting with it in the room. I didn't feel at ease or as if he was there with me like people always said they did. There was no peace, instead it was anguish and reality causing the disbelief to seep from my pores.

"Marcus told me you needed a friend?" Emmanuel sauntered across the room and fell upon the sofa beside me, his shoulders hunched as he relaxed.

"I-I'm sorry if you had plans or something. You don't have to be here, it's okay" My voice was weak, my words faltering at the ends.

"Amelia it's fine, really. Everyone has always told you; if you need something just ask. You asked and I'm here, I'm a friend and it's what friends do."

Gently I smiled over at him and nodded. If Ethan were still alive I would have meant over and placed a gentle kiss upon his cheek for how sweet his words were, but Ethan wasn't and I couldn't bring myself to look or touch or even kiss the cheek of another man. I miss the subtle affection of my husband and at times I could still feel his hand clasped over mine or his lips brush upon my cheek, I didn't want to feel another pair of lips on mine ever again if they weren't Ethan Radev's.

"Do you want me to put it somewhere?" 

Slowly my eyes lifted from the urn, I hadn't even realised I'd been staring down at it, I had even noticed the tears piling in my eyes. 

"N-no. It's okay, I just. It still doesn't make sense."

"I don't think it ever will." Emmanuel scooted closer over the couch and took my hand gently in his, "I know I miss him more and more, I think about him a lot-"

"There's isn't a day where his face isn't in my head. It's just there and everything reminds memory him. This entire penthouse is him. His cologne is still everywhere, his clothes, his photos, his watch- I'm too afraid to go to sleep sometimes because he isn't in his side of the bed and all I dream about is his face."

Emmanuel didn't utter a single word, he kept his mouth closed and eyes staring at my profile. I felt his raise my hand and kiss the back of it before his arm wrapped around my shoulder and my head was placed on his own. It was completely plutonic, our entire friendship was but his gestures always settled the ache in my chest to the point where it was just bearable