This Is My Love

It didn't take any more than a nano second for tears to prick at the corners of my eyes. Bernadette, dead?
How? When? Why? How?
I wanted to ask a million questions, for I was having trouble believing it. In fact, I probably wouldn't have believed it if Pete wasn't in front of me sobbing uncontrollably, and I didn't think it the right time to ask any questions on the matter. Right now, my job was not to ask questions, my job was to be there for my husband.
Pete's tears flowed uncontrollably, sobs wracking his body. My heart clenched and my own tears began to flow.
Not only did I cry for the loss of Bernie, an amazing woman who was loved dearly by everyone around her, and who gave that love back ten fold, and for Pete, who I sympathized with in the most literal sense of the word in that moment, but I cried for the loss of another mother to me. But, right now, it was the look of utter desolation on Pete's face that was getting to me. He looked completely lost.
"Oh, Bruno, I'm so sorry," I cried softly as I placed my hand on his chest, not sure whether or not he wanted to be alone, but he answered that question for me, for as soon as my hand touched his chest, he slid off of the couch to join me on the floor and wrapped his arms around me before burying his face into the crook of my neck and weeping freely.
"Oh, baby," I choked as I wrapped my one arm around his neck and pushed my other hand into the hair on the back of his head, holding him firmly as his tears wet the skin of my neck.
"I can't believe she's gone," he cried, his breathing erratic as he tried desperately to catch his breath through the sobs. I cooed softly to him and stroked my hand down his hair and neck, not knowing what I could possibly do to try to soothe him. I'd never seen him like this before, even when his grandfather passed when we were in the 9th grade he wasn't this bad. But, I didn't blame him. I tried to think what consoled me when I found out my mother was dying, but all I could think of was Pete. How he held me in his arms and let me cry there for two whole hours, softly singing to me. That was enough for me, but would it be enough for him?
I decided to give it a try. I began to softly sing the song that I had written in memory of my own mother, the song that I put on my first album.
"Always with me, I know. Though your body doesn't show. Your soul is around me, you help me sleep soundly," I sung. Pete began to quiet down a little bit, seemingly listening to me sing, so I continued. "Mother, keep me strong. You've been gone for so long. Though I think about you every day, I talk to you every time I pray. And I know you'll always be there for me, even if it is a bit differently, then when you could hold me in your arms and sing to me soothing songs."
Pete was still crying, but he was not sobbing anymore, and as I continued to sing, he even placed a kiss on my neck, which made me have to choke back a sob myself. My voice cracked as I sang the chorus.
"Like by Bob Marley, and Steve Miller, like The Charlies and Heart Breakers. And now I sing those songs to you, just like you used to do. And though I can't hear your voice sing along, I know you're singing every song. It puts me at ease, knowing you're there with me. Mother, I miss you."
Pete placed his hand on my neck and nuzzled me with his nose. He took in a shaky breath and let it out slowly, his crying now subsided. He sniffled a little before placing one more kiss on my neck and lifting his head from my shoulder. His eyes were puffy and his cheeks were red and glistening with tears, but he gave me a small smile.
"Thank you," he whispered hoarsely. I reached up and wiped away some of the wetness off of his cheeks.
"I'm so sorry, Bruno," I spoke softly but seriously as I gazed directly into his eyes. He bit his lip to seemingly hold back a sob and nodded his head before staying silent for a moment. When he did speak, his voice was once again strained.
"We need to get to Hawaii," he whispered. I nodded my head in knowing.
"I know. Go lay down, I'll set it all up," I stated gently. He lifted his eyes to me and gazed at me a long while, his face giving nothing away on his thoughts, before nodding his head and beginning to stand up from the floor. I went to follow him, pushing myself off of the floor, but my large belly was getting in the way of everything anymore. Pete chuckled, surprising me. My eyes shot up to him and he was smiling softly down to me, a small amount of amusement in his eyes at my struggle with the baby bump. I glared jokingly at him.
"You try it sometime, then laugh," I stated as I struggled to get a leg up on getting my leg up. Pete chuckled again before extending his hand down to me. I took it gratefully and let him pull me up. Once I was on my feet, I wiped at the non existent dirt on my maternity jeans then looked back up and furrowed my eyebrows when I saw Pete still smiling down at me, but then his face slowly turned slightly serious.
"You have no idea, do you?.. How much I need you in my life," he whispered seriously. I pulled my eyebrows together again.
"Pete, right no-" I tried to speak, but he placed his hand on my cheek and his thumb against my lips.
"No," he protested against my protesting. "I don't know what I would do without you, Ano," he whispered before removing his thumb from my lips but keeping his hand on my cheek and leaning down to gently touch his lips to mine. He kissed me for a few moments before leaning back and letting a soft breath out through his nose as he gazed at me. I gave a small smile and nodded my head.
"And I, you," I whispered. "Now, go lay down."
I ushered him out of the room and followed him to our bedroom to make sure he did just that. He laid down on his back and looked up to me as I placed my lips against his forehead.
"Get some rest," I whispered before straightening back up and turning to walk from the room, but Pete grabbed my wrist. I turned to him and knitted my brow.
"Lay with me?" He asked softly. I opened my mouth to say how I needed to figure out the quickest way to get to Hawaii, but stopped when I saw the need on his face. The need for me, for the comfort of me.
"Please," he squeaked. I closed my mouth and sighed quietly, but sadly, before nodding my head in consent. Pete moved over a little to give me room to lay down next to him and gently lead me down to the mattress. I laid down on my side and placed my head on his chest before placing my arm over his stomach. Once we were settled, I began to stroke the area of his side under my hand.
"Rest now, Bruno, the best you can," I whispered. He took in a breath and let it out shakily then swallowed hard.
"I don't think I can," he spoke, his voice quivering. "I can't stop thinking about her."
I squeezed my eyes shut in pain. I knew just how he felt. I wanted to know what happened, it was bothering me not knowing, but I didn't think talking about it right then was the right thing to do. But, I guess Pete felt differently.
"My dad said they think it was an aneurism," he whispered hoarsely. I gasped involuntarily and lifted my head from Pete's chest to look at him with wide eyes. Pete stared back at me with big, pained, brown eyes, his bottom lip quivering and his hand shaking against my back with the need to cry. I frowned and my gaze softened.
"Bruno, it's okay to cry," I whispered, reaching my hand up to brush my thumb across his quivering bottom lip. "Cry for her, baby."
So, he did. He took in a deep breath and let it out in a quiet sob. Tears began to flood and fall from his eyes. He closed his eyelids for a moment, pushing out a waterfall of them. I scooted up his body and held his head against my chest as he cried. Then, he continued to speak in a broken voice.
"My dad got out of bed this morning and she was still asleep. He thought she was just sleeping in, so he let her," he whispered hoarsely, then paused to let a few more sobs escape his throat. "When she didn't wake up, he tried..." He cried some more. "He tried to wake her up," he squeaked.
He didn't have to say anymore for me to know the extent of that pain he was feeling for his father. Not only did he lose his wife, he was the one the discover she was dead. And so suddenly...
"There was no warning. He said she was fine the night before. She just had a slight headache," he cried. I began to cry with him, my attempt to stay strong for him failing. "So... Sudden," he choked out. "It's just so sudden."
I couldn't relate to that. I didn't know how that felt, except for the fact that I was going through it with him now, but as much as I loved her as such, she wasn't my maternal mother. She didn't raise me, she didn't kiss my scrapes, she didn't teach me to ride a bike or to sing. And my mother didn't die suddenly. We had months to try to prepare the best we could.
This... This was new to me. And I didn't know how to handle it. How to soothe Pete or what to say or what shouldn't be said. The only thing I could think appropriate was the one thing I kept repeating;
"I'm so sorry, Bruno... I'm so sorry."