The unknown stranger

Adina's POV

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here..."

The priest's voice drifted away, becoming a distant hum I no longer cared to decipher. My gaze was locked on the cream-and-gold casket. He was in there. My brother. My only brother. And this wasn't a dream. No matter how hard I tried to convince myself otherwise, the weight of reality pressed down on me. He was gone.

I felt warm hands wrap around mine—my mother's touch, desperate and trembling, as if holding me tighter could keep us both from falling apart. I looked at her, and my heart cracked further. She looked paler than yesterday, her strength dissolving right before my eyes. Then I glanced at my father. His expression hadn't changed—stoic as ever, like a fortress that refused to crumble. But I saw it. A single tear slipped from the corner of his eye, slow and deliberate.

It didn't surprise me. Even the toughest men crack when they lose a son.

I squeezed my mother's hand, trying to give back some of the strength she was pouring into me, though I had none to spare. She fought hard to keep her composure, but I could see her breaking, just as I was. The words from the priest might as well have been wind. I didn't register a single one.

And then they lowered the casket.

My breath hitched. So this is it, huh? It's really happening. I stood frozen as if time had stopped for me while the rest of the world kept moving forward.

"...Honey, it's over. Let's go."

My father's deep, familiar voice cut through the fog in my mind. I blinked, finally noticing how many times he'd already called me.

I turned to him, forcing a weak smile. "Don't worry, Dad. Just take Mum home. She needs the rest. I'll stay a bit longer"

His face tightened with concern. He knew why I wanted to stay. He knew I needed to cry where no one could see me, to let the pain spill out in private.

"Are you sure, Addy?" he asked gently, his voice filled with that soothing warmth I'd always loved.

I nodded. "Yes, Daddy"

"But how will you get home?" he asked, his worry kicking in.

I rolled my eyes with a small grin, trying to lighten the moment. "Dad, ever heard of Uber?"

He scowled. "You know I don't trust those transport services. What if they kidnap you? You know how these things happen, abi?"

Ah, the good ol' African parent mentality. I let out a soft laugh despite myself. "Daddy, nau. I'll be fine"

He let out a reluctant sigh. "Okay. But please, don't come home too late"

With that, he ushered my mother toward the car. I stood alone as their figures disappeared, and silence engulfed the cemetery. Everyone had left. It was just me now, alone with my brother's grave.

I sat beside it, folding my legs beneath me and lowering my head onto my knees. The tears I had fought so hard to contain poured out freely, hot and relentless. I didn't care if anyone saw or heard me. I let the grief drown me, my sobs echoing in the empty space.

Then, I felt a presence beside me.

"Are you okay?"

The voice was deep and unexpected, startling me. I hadn't even heard anyone approach.

"Shit, sorry," the stranger quickly added, realizing the absurdity of his question. "Of course, you're not okay. We're in a cemetery, for God's sake. That was a stupid thing to ask."

A small snort escaped me, and I sniffled, the tears subsiding just a little.

"It's okay," I mumbled, almost amused. Who would've thought a random stranger in a cemetery would be the one to lift my spirits, even if just a bit?

I didn't raise my head from my knees. Some part of me knew it wasn't exactly safe, talking to an unknown man in a place like this. For all I knew, he could've been a kidnapper or worse. But I didn't feel any threat coming from him. Strange as it sounds, his presence felt... safe.

To this day, I can't recall exactly what we talked about. The words blurred with time. But every time I think back to that moment—sitting by my brother's grave, speaking with a stranger in the quiet of the cemetery—it stands out as one of the best memories I have.