‘Bottom-Cheeks?’ Mason snickers. ‘Is that her actual name, or are you doing that thing where you make up stupid names for people you think are annoying?’
Zayden points at him. ‘The latter.’
I smile, but it’s slow and a little weary. ‘Okay. Well, I’ll see you later, Zay.’
‘Yeah,’ he says. Re-opening his textbook, he stares ahead, and my heart cleaves in two at the pain in his eyes.
Wandering over to him, I wrap my arms around him, holding him as tightly as I can. ‘I love you.’
‘Love you, too,’ he says quietly.
As we drive to the church, the sun pierces through the car window, seeming way too bright for the day ahead. I squint, pulling the sun-visor down and settling back into the seat, unable to shake the sickly feeling that has been plaguing me all morning.
By the time we get there, it’s nearly starting. The church is packed; almost every seat is taken. I can barely meet the eyes of our family friends and distant relatives, making me grateful we got here just in time.
We head towards the first row, to sit next to Mum. She stands to greet us, looking pale and unlike herself. Her usual golden hair, which often flows down her shoulders, is pulled back off her face, making her features look striking, in a confronting sort of way. My throat feels tight as I look at her. Her eyes widen as she takes in my bruises.
‘My baby,’ she whispers.
Mason has kept her up to date with everything, but I asked her not to come see me, since Zayden has been by my side so much, and he isn’t handling everything that’s going on. And I also just needed space to think things through.
‘I’m okay, Ma,’ I murmur.
She extends her hand to me, pulling me into a hug, and I tense when her long thin arms wrap around me.
‘It’s so good to see you,’ she says, cupping my face, inspecting it with an intensity that makes me uncomfortable. Her eyes close for a moment, and then slowly reopen, a pained look falling across her tired face. ‘He told you.’
‘Yes,’ I whisper.
She nods, stepping back, her hands dropping to her sides. ‘I’m sure you’re very upset and confused, but we will discuss this later. Okay?’
‘Okay,’ I say weakly.
‘Hi Mason, honey,’ she says affectionately, touching Mason’s arm. ‘Thank you for being here.’
He offers her a polite smile and a stiff nod. Turning, he runs his hand down my back and gazes ahead, towards the coffin. Mum’s eyes catch the movement, and they widen when she makes the connection.
‘You two?’ she asks, motioning between us.
‘Yep,’ I blurt, and then make a bizarre gesture with my hands. ‘We are what you think. Yep.’
Mason gives me an amused look, and Mum arches a brow at my very obvious awkwardness.
Despite the circumstances, a smile breaks out onto her face. ‘Finally.’
I barely have time to react before everyone is asked to be seated. My leg is bouncing restlessly, and Mason places his hand on top of it. His warmth seeps through my stockings, and I move subconsciously closer to him, seeking his comfort. My eyes are glued to the photo of Rod at the front of the room. My stomach roils as I stare into his eyes, questioning so many little things he said and did over the years, that at the time, I never realised were red flags. Flashes upon flashes bombard my mind, and I close my eyes, begging my mind to clear them. I can’t handle all this right now.
The funeral officiant is mid-sentence when the large wooden doors bang open with a loud screech that has every head swivelling to see who the late guest is. My stomach hits the floor when I see Zayden remove his sunglasses, tucking them into the collar of his shirt as he strides down the aisle, not making eye contact with anyone. He looks handsome, dressed in all black. While everyone else has taken on a formal look, my brother sports his just-rolled-out-of-bed look, but he has the effortless swagger to pull it off. Honestly, my brother could wear a garbage bag and he would still have girls turning their heads as he walks past.
‘Oh, God.’ Mum’s voice is a broken murmur of concern and heartache as she watches her son make his way over to us. He drops into the seat beside Mason. I offer him a small, encouraging smile, and his mouth twitches. Not quite a smile, but an acknowledgement that he knows I’m offering him support.
I’m on edge throughout the entire service. My stomach is in knots and I feel light-headed, having not eaten or drank anything much for the last few days. I just keep thinking of Rod’s hands on my brother, those same hands possibly hurting my mother over and over again, while I was under the same roof, completely oblivious to it all. Other than a few creepy comments here and there, he tended to leave me alone.
When the service is over and everyone stands, Mum reaches out for Zayden, and he stumbles backwards, hitting the pew behind him. Her lower lip trembles as she flinches, her eyes filling with tears.
‘I can’t do this,’ he chokes out, almost falling over his feet to get away from her, his usually relaxed face tense with hard lines. He is looking paler by the second, as if all the blood is draining out of his body and the air is being yanked from his lungs. My heart seems to stop and start again with a painful rhythm as I grapple with getting to my feet, fighting through the anxiety coursing through my body. Mason looks torn with who to reach for at this moment, and it’s all happening fast. Zayden bumps into the person behind him, almost sending them flying.
‘Zayden,’ Mum gasps, her hands flying to cover her mouth.
