“Today at four,” Elle said after a brief pause. “Can you make it?”
“I’ll be there.” The words left my mouth before I could even think about them.
I grabbed my keys and told Geeta that I would return in the evening. Not wanting to take the children with me, I crouched down and kissed each of them gently. Then I rushed out of the house.
The entire drive was a blur of thoughts and regrets.
I still couldn’t believe Patty was gone. The reality of it hadn’t fully sunk in yet, but the weight of it pressed against my chest with every passing mile.
Guilt twisted inside me like a blade turning deeper with every thought.
I cursed myself for not seeing her even once after I had moved to Cowichan Bay. At the time, I had convinced myself that staying away was the right thing to do. I had told myself I was protecting her, keeping her safe from the complicated pieces of my life.
But now, as the road stretched endlessly ahead of me, I realized the truth.
I had not been protecting Patty.
I had been protecting myself.
If I had really wanted to see her, I could have visited her alone. I could have found the time. Instead, I had buried myselfin work and responsibilities. I had chosen distance over the woman who had helped me raise Lucas and had held my life together when it was falling apart.
The realization made my chest ache.
After three hours of driving, with my thoughts still spiralling endlessly, I finally arrived at Elle’s house. My body felt numb.
I stepped out of my car and immediately climbed into Elle’s. She drove us toward the cemetery while I sat beside her, one hand resting unconsciously on her belly, three months pregnant.
I took a slow, pained breath and closed my eyes.
Memories of Patty flooded my mind in vivid waves.
Rubbing my nose, I turned my head and stared out the car window.
The sky was a brilliant blue with no clouds in sight. The sun poured its golden light over everything it touched, making the world look deceptively peaceful.
But inside me, nothing felt peaceful.
I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to release the tension that had gathered there. I prayed silently that no one at the cemetery would recognize me. I didn’t want questions. I didn’t want attention. I simply wanted to say goodbye.
When we were almost at the cemetery, Elle reached into the back seat and handed me a scarf.
For no one to recognize me, I wrapped the scarf around my head and face like ahijab, carefully covering as many of my features as possible. Then I slid my sunglasses over my eyes.
Looking at my reflection in the car mirror, I barely recognized myself.
After we arrived at the cemetery, we got out of the car and walked slowly toward the signs directing mourners to Patty’s funeral service.
The air smelled faintly of freshly cut grass and flowers. Soft murmurs of conversation drifted through the crowd gathered there.
The service passed in a blur of prayers, quiet sobs, and memories shared by those who had loved her.
When it ended, mourners began moving toward the casket to pay their final respects.
My heart pounded as I stepped forward.
Walking up to the casket, a prick shot through my stomach. My body felt heavy and weak, as if grief itself had weight.
I looked down at Patty.
