Act Like You Love Me (Jessica) novel Chapter 130

Chapter 130

Aaron’s POV

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The gray Pittsburgh sky hung low, matching the suffocating silence that had followed us from the hospital to the hotel and finally to this graveyard.

For three days, Jessica had been a ghost in her own skin. She hadn’t spoken. She barely ate.

She spent her nights curled up on the floor of Lydia’s old bedroom, clutching a pillow that was losing the scent of the only mother figure she had left.

It was breaking Adrian. I could see it in the way the kid hovered near her, his big, soulful eyes searching for a version of his mom that wasn’t available.

I did my best to bridge the gap. When the house got too quiet, I’d scoop him up and rock him, telling him stories about superheroes and dinosaurs until his eyes finally drifted shut.

I kept my voice tender, promising him that Mommy was just sad but that she’d be back to herself soon. I had to be the anchor he needed while his world felt unsteady.

I understood Jessica, too. I knew exactly why she was staying so sill—the world felt like it was made of thin glass, and she was terrified that any movement, any word, would shatter the rest of it.

Grief like that doesn’t just hurt; it hollows you out.

I’d spent these past few days as her shadow, holding her hand while she stared at nothing and gently forcing her to drink water even if she wouldn’t eat.

We’d flown back to Pittsburgh because this was where Lydia had built her life: the cozy neighborhood with its tree-lined streets, the church where she volunteered, her job at the community center, and that little cafe where she’d sip tea and chat with anyone who walked in.

She was one of those rare souls who made the world brighter jus by being in it.

The small church was overflowing. People from the local cafe, neighbors, church groups, old coworkers…. they all turned up, their faces etched with the kind of genuine grief you can’t fake.

One by one, they stood at the podium, eulogies laced with personal touches.

“Lydia was the first to bring soup when my mom was sick,” a neighbor said, her voice trembling. “She’d organize bake sales for the kids’ school without anyone asking.”

A coworker from the center talked about how Lydia had mentored troubled teens, turning lives around with her quiet kindness.

The church friends praised her faith, how she’d lead Bible studies with warmth and zero judgment.

It all painted this vivid picture of a woman who’d touched so many lives, and it made the loss feel deeper, even though I didn’t know her for so long.

When it was Jessica’s turn, the priest called her name softly.

She didn’t move. She sat beside me in the front pew, the heavy back lace of her veil shrouding her face in a way that made her feel miles away.

She just kept staring at the polished wood of the casket, her gaze so intense it was as if she were trying to see through the lid, searching for one last glimpse of the woman inside.

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10:49 Mon, Feb 9 DD

Chapter 130

༣61%

55 vouchers

Her hands were folded in her lap, bone-white and motionless. I waited, my heart aching for a single sign of life from her, but the silence stretched until it became uncomfortable.

When the priest finally looked toward us, waiting for her to rise, caught his eye and gave a subtle shake of my head.

He understood immediately and moved on with the service.

I reached over, covering her hand with mine and squeezing her nee.

I wanted to remind her, without words, that I was the ground beneath her feet. She wasn’t alone in this storm.

The service wrapped up with hymns that echoed off the stone walls, and then it was time to lower the body.

We filed out to the cemetery behind the church, a crowd of black umbrellas under the drizzling sky.

The ground was soft from the rain, mud clinging to our shoes. Everyone took turns paying their last respects-tossing handfuls of earth or flowers, and murmuring prayers.

David was there, looking somber, and to my surprise, Fiona had followed us all the way here.

She stood a few paces back, her head bowed.

I still felt that instinctual urge to be cautious around her-six years of bitterness doesn’t vanish in a week-but seeing her here, watching her help with the logistics without being asked, I realized she was actually trying.

Tony and Ella, Jess’s neighbours from L.A., had flown in too. They looked out of place in the cold Pittsburgh damp, but they stood tall for Jess.

Ella was currently under a nearby canopy, keeping Adrian occupied with a coloring book so he wouldn’t have to watch the casket go down.

Finally, it was Jessica’s turn. She still hadn’t budged from her spo by the grave. I nudged her gently.

“Jess? It’s time, love.” She blinked, like emerging from a trance, and let me help her up.

We walked slowly to the open casket, my arm around her waist to steady her.

The air smelled of wet earth and lilies, heavy and cloying.

Lydia looked peaceful, but that was the problem-she looked like a doll. The kind, loving woman was gone, replaced by a waxen imitation in a silk-lined box.

Her skin was unnaturally pale against the dark fabric, her hands crossed over a rosary.

For seven seconds, Jessica just stared. The silence was so heavy I could hear the wind whistling through the nearby headstones.

Then, the dam burst.

“No!” The sound that came out of her was primal. She lunged forward, her fingers catching the edge of the casket.

If David hadn’t stepped in to help me hold her back, she would have climbed right in with her.

“Auntie, please! Come back! You can’t leave me like this!”

“Jess, let go,” I groaned, my own eyes stinging. I had to be the strong one. I had to be the anchor, even if my own heart was twisting into knots at the sight of her breaking.

“It’s not fair!” she screamed into the wind, her voice raw.

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10:49 Mon, Feb 9 DD

Chapter 130

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