Disclaimer:
A lot about God in Max and Father Josè's conversation.

Maxwell

The church is quaint, but it has a welcoming charm.

There is an old man garbed in priestly attire waiting for us at the entrance. His silver hair is trimmed perfectly, a smile on his lips, a ring on each hand, and a cross hanging around his neck.

When we start walking toward him, he stretches out his arms to us and Sienna runs to him. He embraces her, then kisses both her cheeks.

"Have you been praying for Nicolo to stop talking with food in his mouth?"

The old man smiles fondly, "Yes. The Lord has been made aware of this behaviour."

"Make Him aware of Sienna bullying me too. " Nic chimes in, stepping into the old man's embrace. He does this with all of them.

He laughs with them and smiles at them with love other than just kindness. I could tell they meant more than the world to him.

When he is done hugging and kissing all of them, Lia pulls me to the front. I'm nervous, anxious, something I picked up since I met Lia's dad. He moves his face and his eyes land on me—they are kind, knowing, wise.

"You must be Maxwell. Lia told you you're going through a rough time." He mumbles, holding out his hand to shake mine. He let out a small encouraging grin when he enfolds my trembling hand in his. He can tell I'm terrified though he probably doesn't know why.

"I have an appointment in an hour." he said to the others while still holding my hand, "will you mind if I speak to Maxwell alone?"

"No, we don't mind," Luca tells him.

"And you'll have lunch with me?" There is excitement and hope in his tone.

"Yes. We will wait." Luca assures him. He smiles again, then his eyes shift to me." follow me, Maxwell."

He leads me to a small office with portraits of Jesus and what I think is God. There is another priest seated, "this is Father Mario," the priest tells me, "this is Maxwell, a friend of Lia." He adds. Father Mario narrows his gaze at me, flipping his pen, "What kind of a friend?" He asks with more interest than it warrants. I don't reply, neither does Father Josè, he just unlocks another door, steps aside and gestures for me to enter.

This room is different. It's bigger with two windows; one on the right, the other on the left.

I let out a sigh slowly when he invites me to sit down. He takes his time arranging papers on his desk, piling them up on top of each other before transferring them to a small shelf behind him. While he is doing this, I'm running my eyes around the room. There is a mosaic of wedding portraits of a few people, but my eyes land on those that I know. Four men, three of which were the reason I was seated in an office with a priest in Italy. And a very well known Chicago billionaire—Matthew Ocean. But as surprised as I was to find his wedding photos among the others, I'm more surprised by the woman in Romano's arms. Mia Bella, a former supermodel. I guess marriage was the reason for her disappearance from the limelight. This was where Serena got her looks, her mother was not only beautiful, she was gorgeous. Glamorous.

"You know Matthew Ocean?" I asked the priest. He lifts his head for a second, then moves his face to the portraits on the wall, and nods. "I raised him. I raised all of them." There is a lot of pride in his voice, a tone of accomplishment, do you mind if I take a look?"

"He laughs, "No, of course not. Go ahead." I rise on my feet, my gaze fixed on the mosaic roaming on the portraits first on the wedding portraits, the other when they were young boys on the verge of adulthood, to when they were children. He has it all.

I'm drawn to the women married to the three men who managed to completely turn my life upside down. They are the opposite of what I expected. They looked sweet, beautiful. Like soccer moms. Pillar of the community, those surbabun wives that were always on bake sales.

How could these women marry the kind of men their husbands were, and reproduce the same kind of children whose level of empathy was between zero and one?

"Who are you curious about? I gasp at his sound so near me, I did not hear him move, now we are standing side by side looking at the same faces.

I slowly, anxiously bring my arms across my chest, throws a glance at him and say, "their wives."

" I gather you've met their husbands?"

I give him a small nod.

"Wasnt a good first meeting, huh?"

I shake my head. "Come on, sit down. Tell me what's bothering you?"

I slowly walk back to my chair, and he sits opposite me.

"So..." There is a pause, his gaze fixed on my face. It's intense as if he is trying to read me or something.

"Lia tells me you work together."

I nod. Cutting off our eye connection.

"Are you as good as her?" That has me chuckling, and his mouth stretches into another smile. He is a man who knows how to laugh he likes it, it's so natural to him I wonder whether he is ever sad, which is what I ask him.

"Yes. Sometimes," he tells me. "Nobody in this wonderful God-given land is always happy."

I contemplate that for a minute or so, looking at the window on my right to hide from his knowing gaze.

"Why are you sad, Maxwell?"

I don't reply immediately but I find myself feigning a cough to buy some time to find the right words to describe my sadness. However, I don't tell him everything, instead, I say, "My bodyguard was murdered a few weeks ago and I don't know how to process his death."

Father Josè looks at the same place I'm looking, lost in the moment Chris's body hit the floor beside me, the smell of his blood, and my clothes covered in the same.

"Have the police arrested the murderer?"

I shake my head. Tears streaming through the corner of my eyes.

"Do you know who killed him?" I take a moment before I shake my head. I hear him opening a drawer, and a second later he is holding out a handkerchief to me. I realize too late that I'm snivelling, my heart is breaking again as I relive the memories of that night.

"I'm sorry." I breath between broken cries. " I'm sorry, " I say again. I'm so sorry." I say this again and again until I lose count.

Father Josè lets me cry, telling me it's okay to cry when we are sad. I don't just cry, I break down. As I weep, I feel his hands on my shoulder, soothing me, tapping me, and finally, he drags his chair beside me and pulls me up into his arms.

Nobody has comforted me like this since I was a child. He feels safe, warm and non-judgemental.

When I'm done sobbing, he goes back to his side.

"Maxwell...I'm not sure whether what I say will make you feel any better, but a few things I know is that God is comforting." That doesn't make me feel any better at all, if anything, I feel worse because I don't think I'm the kind God cares about, but I don't tell him this.

"You must have loved your bodyguard if his death has affected you this deeply."

"No...," I sniffle, wiping my nose. "I don't know...Im not sure, but I feel guilty. He died because of a decision I made." I mumble, leaning back in my seat, avoiding his eyes.

"I too have lost a few close friends. At my age, they keep dropping like flies." he laughs mirthlessly.

"Maxwell. Death is imminent for all of us. Your friend's demise was premature, and there is nothing you can do about it, "he says softly, "but you can change the course of your life for the better. Everyone mourns for their loved one. Even God Himself mourned the death and pain of His own son. Who are we to think that we can go through this life without experiencing the pain of having to mourn for someone we love?" silence follows, and I take a second to think about what He has said, but it reminds me of a question that I've always wanted to know about Jesus's death.

"Why did He allow it?" I ask him. He looks at me confused, "I mean God. He has the power to change everything without sacrificing His son."

He looks at me then, fondly, lovingly, but also with a touch of amusement.

"I don't have all the answers either. "But if you have ever read the old testament, you must know God is a little bit more than brutal in there. At least that is my opinion. I think He gave us Jesus because He is more approachable. He had to be human, to walk through the same earth as we do, to have human experiences, to be our bridge and reconciliation to God."

I look at him, stare is more like it because what he has just said doesn't register to me.

"Allow yourself to mourn, but most importantly, you must find it within yourself to forgive yourself. But in order to have God open a different page for you, you're required to do the heavy lifting; apologize to those you've wronged, repent, and pray. I will give you a book to help you with that. "

"The Bible?"

He lets out a delightful laugh and says, "No."

"Forgiveness must first come from within." He rises to his feet, prompting me to do the same. "May God give you peace, may He walk with you, and may He give you the strength you need to walk through the next chapter of your life. That doesn't mean it will be easy, but He will be right there with you. Stay still sometimes, you might hear His voice."

I doubt that. I mumble to myself.

He must have guessed my thoughts because he gives me a serene smile.

"Let me walk you out. I have another appointment, but if you ever need me, stop by. I will always welcome you."

I feel my eyes welling up with unshed tears. "Thank you," I murmur, but before we could get to the threshold, I see another face on his mosaic of portraits that I recognize and I almost trip over. "Is that Judge Gabriel Cortez?"

The priest turns to the picture, "Yes. Smart boy that one. I'm still waiting for him to get married. He is too lonely, he needs a companion." The priest tells me, but I'm so caught up with how much power and influence this man could tap into if he wanted. Gabriel Cortez was a US supreme judge. I immediately knew who was responsible for my 72 hours of freedom.

"Maxwell." Father Josè calls me before he could open the door.

"There is one more piece of advice I would give you." he ambles towards me, then stops so close to me I can see his long eyelashes clearly. "You must never close the line with any of these girls." I'm now astounded, afraid, and surprised that he would say this. "I saw the way you look at Serena, it's dangerous," he adds. "And believe me, they have seen it too. You're not a match for her." That makes me feel like I'm inferior, someone of low birth, but he qualifies the statement. " that is not what I mean." I guess he has a way of reading my face.

"She is beautiful, smart, brave. I do not say that because I love her, it's the truth. But she was raised to fight battles that you cannot imagine. She would cut you into small pieces and not even break a sweat. Of all these children, Lia, is the only one that has a warm heart. She probably doesn't know it herself. That is not to say she can't do the same, but she has a little empathy, which is why you're here. I may not know the details, but I'm sure you did something to her that her father deemed unforgivable. Yet she brought you here because you needed comforting. Go back to your life after this, Maxwell, the Lord be with you."

And he turned and walked away. I wanted to know why he would knowingly fraternize with criminals, but that was between him and God.

*****
This is the last Max's POV. The chapter on how the shooting began will be voiced by either Lia or Luca. Thank you for reading. Please vote and leave me a comment.