Chapter 2.150

Hours had passed, but Christian had yet to move a muscle. Many had either left the graveside in tears or had stepped out to take a breather, but not Christian.

“It’s okay to cry, Christian.” I wrapped my arm around him, leaning into his chest. “If you want to yell, bawl—punch someone…I’m here.” I spoke. “Okay, maybe not the punching part—“

“I know.” I felt Chistian’s soft lips pressed against my temple. “I should be crying, but people are relying on me, and I can’t let them down.” He tried convincing himself. “Tears are a sign of weakness.”

His words to me were nonsense, but I respected his wishes. He felt obligated to be the bigger man this family needed him to be and held back every bit of emotion.

Others depended on him to prepare a perfect service for Lucio, and he did. Gio and Enzo were older, Franco who had lost his son had more experience—but as the heir, everyone expected Christian to do everything—as if he was not grieving as well.