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Dominic
Friday morning was sunny and cold as they made their way to Miracle Hill for Nan’s service. Lula was quiet, as she had been for days now. He couldn’t get through to her. He had tried everything he could to make her smile, to lift her spirits, but she was so heartbroken that nothing worked.
As a result, he refused to leave her side. She didn’t complain, and even if she had, he wouldn’t have left her. He couldn’t. Not just because he had made a promise to Nan, but because he physically couldn’t leave this beautiful, broken woman. She had become part of his heart.
The chapel was small. Bright sunshine streamed in from two thin stained-glass windows across a small spinet piano and a few rows of pews that were full of friends and residents. Amy sat in the back.
A beautiful bouquet full of autumn colors that the staff had purchased was adorned with a ribbon that said “Mother, Grandmother, Friend.”
The service itself was brief, a local minister said a few prayers and delivered a short homily before asking Lula to approach the front.
He could feel her shake beside him, trying to keep her emotions together long enough to get through the ceremony. He kissed her cheek. “You can do this, babe.”
She looked at him with wide, sad eyes and nodded.
He watched with bursting pride as his beautiful girl greeted the gathered and began her eulogy. Her voice was laden with sadness, her eyes red with tears, but she pushed forward, looking to him as if it gave her strength. He was honored to be that for her.
“Beverly Stanley was a one-of-a-kind woman,” she started. “A ridiculously fantastic grandmother, a doting mother, a kind and thoughtful friend. She was always there when you needed her and would always supply one of her sharp-edge quips exactly when you needed to hear it. Even if you didn’t want to.”
A ripple of laughter spread through the room.
“Many of you might not know this, but my grandmother was an accomplished opera singer in her time. She traveled everywhere, to the greatest opera houses in the world, singing some of the most beautiful works ever written. She was a transcendent musical talent and a force to be reckoned with when it came to her family.”
Lula took a deep, steadying breath.
“She fought for everything that she had, and she loved fiercely the things that she was given. She never let me go a moment without feeling loved, without telling me how important I was to her. She made me who I am, made me a woman who won’t compromise in my profession or the things that I love.”
Dom’s breath stilled when she looked at him on the last word.
She smiled slightly at him and went on. “She was my rock, my anchor, my tether, my heart. And I will miss her with every fiber of my being.” She wiped a tear away and took a moment to compose herself. “Nan asked that I sing ‘Amazing Grace’ today, and I thought to myself, ‘How am I going to pull that off?’ I’ll be honest, I didn’t want to. But as I thought about it, I realized what a small request it was from the woman who gave me everything. So for Nana, I will sing.”
Dom felt tears spilling down his face as Lula stepped aside from the podium, closed her eyes, and began singing the most beautiful, heart-wrenching version of “Amazing Grace” he had ever heard. It was pure emotion, pure love flowing through her and out into the room.
It was the most singularly beautiful experience of his life.
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Lula
Getting through Nan’s funeral had been the hardest thing Lula had ever done. Harder even, in some respects, than her mother’s. Because even though losing her mother had torn her heart out, she still had Nan. Now ...
Now she was standing next to Dom, greeting everyone that came to pay respects, feeling so utterly alone that she could scarcely breathe. Every word she had to say was a chore, every hug someone wanted was like ripping another piece of her soul out. It was torture.
The only thing that kept her moving was Dom’s presence. He was always there. He had been all week, without question, without complaint, simply helping in any way that he could.
And Amy too. She didn’t know what she had done to be blessed by these two humans, but she was positive she didn’t deserve it.
When everyone was finally gone, Dom and Amy sat with her in the chapel and held each of her hands until she had found the strength to get up. She picked up the ceramic urn that she had chosen for Nan—it was white with beautiful hand-painted flowers across it—held it to her, and they left together.
“You were amazing,” Dom told her as they snuggled on her sofa later that night. She had put Nan’s urn on the mantle and then told Dom all the stories she could think of about her grandmother. The funny ones, the sad ones, she was just desperate for someone else to absorb it, to understand what an amazing soul she was.
And Dom was perfect; he listened to her as if she was the most fascinating thing in the world, kissed her tears away when she cried, and held her in the most tender way. She really didn’t know how she could ever repay him.
“Thank you,” she told him, running her fingers along the edges of his face. Lord, she loved him. “Thank you so much for everything you’ve done; you’ve been so amazing. I don’t think I can ever thank you enough.”
He grinned at her and kissed her hand. “Well, then you’ll be glad to know, you don’t have to thank me.”
She smiled back. “I’m beginning to think all those things I heard about you were lies.”
He laughed. “I hope not all of them. I mean, I am super charming and ridiculously good-looking.”
“And crazy good in bed,” she pointed out, drawing an even bigger grin.
He kissed her. “That, my love, is because you inspire me.”
Her heart stopped.
He reddened, his words catching up to him. “I mean ...”
“You mean I’m incredibly sexy,” she joked, letting him off the hook. Even though it made her want to crawl out of her skin to refrain from demanding to know what he meant by ‘my love’, it wasn’t the right time. For now, she would savor the words, tuck them in her heart, and use them when she was feeling sad.
“I don’t think ‘incredibly’ is strong enough,” he said, kissing her again. “Astonishingly? Unsurpassingly? Mind-blowingly? I think those are better.”
She gave him a saucy smile and ran her hand down his chest, his stomach, to his cock. “Maybe instead of trying to find the right word, you just show me.”
“Oh, Miss Stanley,” he growled, sweeping her up into his arms, “I do like the way you think.”