Page 40

HARLOW

“You should call him,” Brooke says as we continue staring down at the card.

“N-No, I can’t. He clearly knows what’s going on,” I wave the card in front of her as evidence. “Yet he decided to send these instead of come himself.” I fight to keep my voice strong, but the sympathy in Brooke’s eyes tells me that I don’t do a very good job.

“He doesn’t know everything, though. Does he?”

“He couldn’t cope with me giving him a few thousand dollars. You really think he’s going to take well to me following that up with a baby?”

“He’s got a right to know.”

“I know. I just … I just need to get my head around it before I attempt to figure out how I’m going to tell him.”

She wraps her arm around my shoulder. “Do what feels right. I’ll support you all the way.”

“Thank you,” I mutter into her shoulder when she pulls me in for a hug.

“I don’t know if you wanted me to or not, but I called the funeral directors when you were asleep just to get things moving.

” I nod, thankful that she’s made that first step for me, because it was one of the things I was dreading the most. “Did you know your aunt had already planned and paid for her funeral?”

“What?”

“Apparently, it’s all done. You just need to confirm a date. The rest has been taken care of.”

I stare at her, totally taken aback—but then, this is my aunt we’re talking about. I’m not sure why I’m so surprised.

“I should have seen this coming,” I mutter, falling onto the couch and pulling my knees up so I can wrap my arms around them.

“I guess so. She just wanted to make all of this as easy on you as possible.”

“Did they give you a date?”

“They said they could do Wednesday. I’ve held it for you, but you need to ring and confirm.”

A sob rips up my throat.

“Shit, what’s wrong? It doesn’t have to be Wednesday if you don’t want.”

“It’s-it’s not that. I just …” I steel myself to continue. “I have no idea if I’m relieved or disappointed.”

“Why would you be disappointed?”

“It would have given me something to think about,” I admit.

“I think you’ve got enough on your plate right now, don’t you?”

“But what am I meant to do between now and then?”

“Sleep. Book a doctor’s appointment, maybe. Talk to Corey,” she suggests, making my stomach somersault.

How the hell am I meant to even broach the subject of my pregnancy with him?

“Everything will be fine,” Brooke says with a smile on her face and an optimism that I don’t feel.

Our Chinese arrives, and I eat some of it before I make my excuses and head up to bed.

I love Brooke, and I know she’s just trying to make all of this easier, but I need to be alone.

It’s late, or at least I think it is, seeing as my room is in darkness, when the doorbell rings again.

Praying it’s just another flower delivery, I roll over and curl myself up in a ball.

Voices filter up to me. I know who it is immediately. I’d recognize his deep rumble anywhere, but I make no effort to move.

I’m mentally drained and physically exhausted. I don’t have it in me to deal with what he’ll want to talk about … what I need to tell him.

Light footsteps climb the stairs, and I breathe a sigh of relief that Brooke hasn’t just sent him up.

She cracks my door open. It squeaks slightly like it usually does, but I don’t move. I don’t so much as flinch as I attempt to make it look like I’m sleeping.

After a few seconds, she backs out of the room and descends the stairs once again. Knowing she’s telling him that I’m sleeping guts me. Tears burn my eyes, and my body trembles with my sobs.

This is too much. It’s all just too much.

Other than having no choice but to speak to the funeral directors and the venue for the wake, the next three days all blur into one.

I sleep, I cry, I throw up, I eat, and mostly I throw up again.

Every day the doorbell rings, and every day I hide in my room.

Whether it be Corey’s daily visit that Brooke insists on telling me about the second she’s closed the door behind him, or her parents or Reese, I refuse to talk to any of them.

I just want to be in my own little bubble where I can pretend things are all still normal.

The funeral is this afternoon, so whether I like it or not, I’m going to have to leave this room and face the world so I can say goodbye to someone else who shouldn’t have left me so soon.

“Good morning,” Brooke sings, marching into my room and dragging the curtains open. They haven’t been like that in a while, and the sun from the outside world burns my eyes.

“Hey, stop that,” I complain.

“Harlow,” she sighs. “I’ve let you hide and wallow. Today it stops. Today you reenter the world again. People want to see you. They need to see with their own eyes that you’re okay.”

Guilt twists my insides that I’m making people worry about me.

“Do you think he’s going to be there?” Having to face him while trying to deal with the service is my biggest fear right now. I’m not sure I need my two disastrous worlds blending together into one. Each alone is hard enough to deal with; I don’t need them joining forces.

“I don’t know. He didn’t say.”

“He didn’t say? B, he’s been here every day. How hasn’t that come up?”

She shrugs. “We just didn’t talk about it.”

“So what did you talk about?” Not all of his visits have been quick ones with him staying on the other side of the door. I know she’s invited him in, hoping I’d come down and face my issues.

“You,” she admits, hesitantly. “He’s worried about you. So am I. So is everyone. I know this is hard right now, and the added stress of …” She nods toward my stomach like I need the reminder. “But you really should talk to him. Hear him out.”

“One thing at a time. Did I smell toast?”

“You did. Here.” She passes me the tray she’d abandoned on the dresser.

Sitting myself up, I accept it and immediately shove a piece of buttered toast in my mouth in the hope that it’ll help keep any sickness at bay.

Brooke watches me for a beat before turning to my closet.

“Have you decided what you’re wearing today?”

“Nope. Probably the first thing I find.”

“Don’t be like that. Your aunt specifically said she wanted everyone in bright colors. I know it’s hard, but she wants you to celebrate her today. And to be honest, she was kinda epic, so I think she deserves you to pull out all the stops.”

I roll my eyes. My aunt organizing her own funeral might have been a surprise, but her desire to ditch the black for today had been in the plans for a long time.

“What about this?”

I risk a glance up. “No.”

“What? Why? It’s so pretty.”

I sigh. “Just no.”

She huffs and puts it back in before rummaging around again.

“B, it’s okay. I can find something.”

“Okay,” she says, holding her hands up and backing away from my closet. “You’ve got two hours until the cars will be here. If you need anything, call me.”

“I will,” I promise before watching her back out of the room.

I’m not ready for today. Not that I think I ever could be.

I move on autopilot as I get myself in the shower and begin getting ready. I try to keep my imagination in check to stop it wandering to my family’s funeral all those years ago. That day, I prayed I’d never have to say goodbye to anyone ever again. But here we are.

I blow-dry my hair, leaving it curly as I know my aunt liked it, and apply some light makeup. In reality, I’m going to wash it all away with my tears in the coming hours.

Standing at my closet like Brooke did not so long ago, I run my eyes over everything, trying to find the right dress. Nothing feels quite right. Add that to the fact that I feel totally bloated and sick right now, and nothing really appeals.

In the end, I pull out a long, flowing, floral maxi dress that’s covered in big, bright flowers and team it with a pink cardigan.

I glance at myself in the mirror, and a small smile turns up the corners of my lips. She’d approve of this. I turn to the side and run my hand over my stomach. Despite the fact that I feel more bloated than I ever have in my life, it’s not at all noticeable.

Digging deep for some strength, I abandon my sanctuary in search of Brooke.

The smell of her coffee filling the kitchen makes my stomach turn over, but thankfully, I manage to keep the toast down for now.

She turns to me, her eyes softening as she takes in my outfit. “You look lovely.”

“You too.”

“There’s a stack of unopened cards on the coffee table, if you’d like to look through them.”

“Uh … no, I think today is already going to be hard enough.”

She nods. “You need anything before we go? More food? Drink?”

“I’m good, thanks. I just need … I just need to do this—say goodbye—and then I can focus on the future.” My hand presses against my stomach, a move that Brooke doesn’t miss.

She opens her mouth to say something, but I cut her off.

“I know. I’ll talk to him soon. I promise.”

Our journey to the church is in silence. Brooke holds my hand the entire way and never once lets go.

My best friend might be all kinds of crazy at times, but I’d never swap her. She’s … incredible. I never would have got through any of this without her. She’s like my guardian angel.

“Thank you,” I whisper, turning to her.

“What for?”

“This.” I nod to our joined hands. “Everything. I just need you to know that I really appreciate it.”

“I know you do, sweetie. I also know that you’d do the exact same thing for me.”

I smile at her. I’d do anything for her.

The second we’re out of the car, I’m pulled into her parents’ arms. Sarah sobs as she holds me while her dad is more stoic, like always, when he wraps an arm around my shoulder.

They both speak to me, but aside from the standard “we’re sorry for your loss,” I don’t hear a word of it.

I’m too numb.

Reese runs over the second she sees me and wraps her arms around my shoulders, holding me tightly. When she pulls back, her eyes are filled with tears.

“You’ve got this, Harlow.” She reaches down and squeezes my hand as Fletch joins us.

I glance around the people loitering outside the church and find all their eyes on him. For once, I’m glad of his presence, even if I’m about to do something stupid, because it means no one is looking at me, waiting for me to break.

“Harlow, we’re so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you. And thank you for being here. All of you,” I say, glancing at where the rest of the team are huddled together. “I really appreciate it, and not just because everyone is staring at you and not me right now.”

He chuckles. “I do aim to please.” He winks, and my face flushes beet red while Reese slaps his shoulder.

“I can’t take you anywhere.”

Grateful that I was able to stay solidly on both feet and not accidently grope him this time, I make my excuses and wander over to see the vicar so he can talk through proceedings.

My aunt wasn’t an overly religious person, but this church was where her parents got married and the only place she wanted to say her own vows.

With Brooke on one side of me and her mom the other, they hold my hands to try to keep me steady through the service.

It’s beautiful, it really is. I never would have done such a good job if I’d had to plan it all over the past few days.

All too soon, we’re forced to say our final goodbyes and are walking away from the committal.

My legs move, but I don’t register that I’m going anywhere. The previous numbness has turned into total emptiness. All I want to do is go running back to my bedroom to hide.

Aside from the Vipers family, there aren’t all that many people here.

My aunt kept her circle quite small, but even still, it’s too many to deal with.

Some of their interest in the celebrities in our midst has waned, and I’m feeling more eyes burning into me.

Each pair is full of sympathy. I have no doubt they know my story if they knew my aunt.

“I’m proud of you,” Brooke whispers, coming back to join me. She’s hardly left my side, for which I’m grateful.

“He didn’t come.” I don’t mean for the words to come out loud, and I gasp when I realize that they do.

She reaches up and wipes a tear from my cheek. I didn’t even know it had fallen, it’s such a common feeling these days.

“Look up, H,” Brooke says quietly. She stands aside, and I gasp.

Right at the other side of the church, shadowed by overhanging trees, is a bench.

“Oh my God.”

As if he knows I’m staring at him, his head lifts from where it was hanging between his shoulders, his elbows on his knees, and our eyes connect.

Something crackles between us. Something I remember all too well even from that very first night.

He’s here. He came. For me.

“What do you want to do? We really need to be moving toward the wake.”

I’m silent for a beat, my connection with Corey as strong as ever, before I say the words that gut me. All I want to do is run into his arms, feel his strength wrap around me, and hear promises that he’s never going to let go.

But I can’t. That can’t happen until we’ve talked, and that can’t happen until I’ve done this for my aunt. She deserves my full attention. Well, as much as I’m capable of right now.

“One thing at a time,” I say, repeating my previous words.

“Okay. So, we go?”

“Yes.”

I hold his stare for one final second before breaking it and turning away from him.

A sob rumbles up my throat, but I catch it before it escapes. Everything feels wrong about walking away, but it’s all I can do right now.

“Everything okay?” I ask Brooke as she drops her cell back into her purse as the car pulls away.

“Yep. I’m good. You don’t need to be worrying about me.”

She takes my hand once again, and I blow out a breath.

Did I just make a mistake?