I walk ahead with Richard. Hudson, Max and Bryce hang back slightly. In my hands are a bunch of purple tulips. They were my mum’s favourite flowers. I have a vague memory of her placing a similar bunch in a bright yellow vase. She was younger then, beautiful. Happy. Sometimes I wonder if it’s a fantasy and not a memory, something my brain made up to try and convince me that she had been whole once and not broken. Either way, I’ve hung onto that memory over the years. It’s the only one I have that isn’t filled with bitterness, anger and tears. Right now, that’s how I choose to remember her - smiling, the summer sun streaming through our kitchen window, her blonde hair catching the light.

“You okay, love?” Richard asks me as we approach the recently laid headstone. It’s made of black granite, shiny and new. It seems odd somehow, that this pristine hunk of stone sits above my mother as she lays rotting in the ground below, her body seeping into the wood of the coffin.

“One day soon, I will be,” I say eventually.

“Are they taking care of you? Are you happy, Louisa?”

“Yes, they are, and yes, I am. They are good men, I’m lucky to have them.”

“No, they’re lucky to have you,” Richard says, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.

We stop in front of the headstone, the winter sun glinting off its shiny surface. Carved into the stone is my mum’s name, her birth and death date. That’s it. Most people have an epitaph but there are no words of love here. I had toyed with the idea, but in the end, anything I said would have been a lie. I loved the woman I wanted her to be, not the woman she was. As heartbreaking as that may sound, it’s the truth. I am here today to lay flowers for the memory of the woman I have longed for my whole life. To say goodbye to all that was. There will be no returning.

Kneeling, I lay the bunch of tulips on the packed down earth. In a few days they will lose their vibrant colour, their petals will fall away from the stem and eventually be scattered in the wind, floating off to someplace else. I think that’s what happened to my mum over the years. She started out vibrant and full of life like these tulips, but heartache and addiction slowly turned her a sickly shade, the edges of her wilting under the sadness that was her life.

“I hope you’ve found peace, Mum,” I whisper, pressing my fingers against the cold marble. I feel immeasurably sad, but also hopeful. That feeling of hope has grown every day since Max, Bryce and Hudson stepped back into my life.

Richard rests his hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. “Can I have a moment alone with Lorna?” he asks me.

“Of course,” I say, standing. Richard is the only man who ever loved my mum. He had made her happy for a short time and yet even his love wasn’t enough for her. In a twisted way that makes me feel better, knowing such a good man with such a kind and generous heart wasn’t able to save her either.

Turning, I walk back towards the church where my boyfriends are waiting. I see them standing together, talking softly. Alongside Richard and Nisha, these men are my family now.

“Hey, darling. Are you ready to leave?” Bryce asks me.

“In a minute. Richard is saying his last goodbyes. Then we’ll go.”

“We can come back whenever you like,” Max says as he threads his fingers through mine. I am grateful for his touch, for the easy familiarity we have around one another.

“No, I won’t come back. That part of my life is over now. I want to forget about the past. I want to build a future with memories that don’t hurt my heart.”

“We’ll build it together, Louisa,” Hudson says, his green eyes bright with hope.

“Thank you, all of you, for coming here today. It means a great deal to me.” Tears well in my eyes, but they aren’t for my mum. No, these are tears of happiness. These tears are because I’ve finally found somewhere I belong.

“Hey, come here,” Max says, pulling me into his arms, misunderstanding why I am crying. I allow him to hold me. Bryce rubs his hand up and down my back, whilst Hudson presses a kiss against my hands that are wrapped around the back of Max’s neck.

“You misunderstand,” I say, giving them all a shaky smile. “I’m not crying for my mum, I’ve cried too many tears over the years for her. I’m crying because I’m happy. In fact, I’m ecstatic.”

Max frowns at me. “Well that’s a little odd, Icy,” he says with a half-smile. “I’d rather you smiled.”

“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” I say, pressing a quick kiss against his lips. “But then, normal is boring, right?”

Hudson and Bryce chuckle. “We’ve never done boring,” Bryce says with a wink.

“Nope. Boring is most definitely not in our vocabulary,” Hudson agrees.

We all start laughing and it is joyous, uplifting, and slightly odd, given we are in a graveyard surrounded by the dead.

“Shh, you might wake someone,” Max jokes, pointing at the nearest gravestone, his lip twitching with mirth. It has the desired affect and we all erupt in another bout of laughter.

“Jesus, you’re going to get us chucked out in a minute,” Bryce says under his breath when he notices the vicar exiting the church. It’s the same man who performed my mum’s ceremony.

We stop laughing, pulling serious faces. I feel like a kid at school about to be told off by the teacher for talking in class. We all wait for him to make a comment about being respectful in a place of worship, or at least outside a place of worship, given we’re not actually standing in the church. The vicar regards us all, his eyes focusing on me. There is recognition in them, and he smiles warmly.

“Don’t stop on my account. Laughter is good for the soul; that, a tot of rum and the love of a good woman,” he says with a wink.

“Did I just hear right?” Hudson asks with surprise.

“Yep, you sure did,” Bryce confirms, a smile twitching at his lips.

“Sounds like a man after my own heart,” Max remarks with a grin.

“This may be where the dead lie in peace, but we are all still very much living. Life is full of shit, the least we can do is enjoy happiness when it strikes,” the vicar says before strolling off toward an elderly couple who are making their way up the path.

We all look at each other in shock, before bursting out with laughter once more. The vicar’s right, life has handed each of us a steaming pile of shit. But now, standing here surrounded by the men I love, we have been gifted a fresh start. Knowing that, I feel more joy than I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. The joy is infectious and we laugh until there is only happiness left.