Page 20 of Westward

“You don’t have to wear it. You can wear whatever you want.” Teagan came up to me, the soft black of her dress near-identical to mine. She pulled her hair back, wore minimal makeup, and the depth of sadness in her eyes made me want to reach out and hold her. Because she cared. She truly cared.

And I knew so many others did in this town.

My family wasn’t part of the founding families. We weren’t into politics or into every little bit of news and life that some town members were. My parents had once been integral. They had lived here their entire lives here and had died here.

My throat tightened, and I put my hand against the wall, trying to catch my breath.

“Elizabeth,” Teagan began, but stopped her train of thought.

I shook my head, annoyed with myself for breaking. I didn’t have time to break. My parents deserved a day without it being about me. They didn’t need a day where the town was so worried about how I would take it that they forgot about who was the most important on this day.

After all, this was the last of it. After we said our goodbyes today, people would move on. Because that’s how grief worked. You focused on the person or persons that you lost, and then you were forced to move on. But how was I supposed to move on when the two people who had taken care of me, who loved me for who I was and not what I could do for them, and never judged me for any mistakes I might make, were now gone?

Gone forever, and I was supposed to somehow navigate this world without them.

Ashford Creek was my parents’ in my mind. How was I supposed to move on? Or was I supposed to at all?

“No, this is what I’ll wear. It’s time to retire it anyway. I was just thinking that it’s become my funeral dress, even though it’s not kind to the dress itself.”

Teagan squeezed my hand, and I closed my eyes, telling myself I needed to breathe. “Okay. Whatever you need.”

“I’ll be okay. At least they went together, right?”

I met Teagan’s gaze in the mirror, and she gave me a soft smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Because I was only repeating what countless others had already said.

As if it were a blessing that I was now an orphan. All in one swoop. I had no family left. No grandparents, no cousins. No aunts or uncles. Maybe a distant fifth cousin who had never set foot in Colorado, but no one I could call home. And wasn’t that a sad excuse for a connection?

“I’m here if you need me. If you want to talk. Or if you just want to scream. I’m good at screaming too.”

I smiled, knowing that Teagan was just as much out of her depth as I was. After all, she was an orphan too, but for far different circumstances than I.

Her father had been a terrible person, and the town—the world—was better off now that he was gone. A horrible thing to say, perhaps, but the truth.

I barely remembered Teagan’s mother, and I had to wonder if she did either. But that wasn’t something I would ask today. There was no point in adding to my grief with Teagan’s. That would just be rude, mean.

“I’m going to take a minute, if that’s okay?” I asked, knowing that if Teagan stayed longer, I would break. And I couldn’t break. Not yet.

“Of course. Do you want me to send anyone in later?”

I shook my head. “No, I’ll see everybody at the funeral.”

“Okay, I’ll give you a few minutes. But you’re never alone, Elizabeth. I hope you realize that.”

I tried to smile, but it hurt. “I know.” Not quite a lie.

Teagan studied my face before she let out a breath and left me alone in my room.

The past couple of days had felt as if I were walking through quicksand, with each step deeper within the darkness than the last.

Finnian had come over soon after my breakdown and had dealt with my broken window. I had been sieving through a fog, trying to comprehend what Thatcher had explained to me, and it felt as if I blinked, and my window had been replaced and looked better than new.

The man hadn’t even said a word. Just done it and walked away. I know he had spoken to Atlas about it, and I would worry about what that meant later, but they had taken care of everything, so I didn’t have to.

Just like I had tried to do for them when they had lost everything. It was what Ashford Creek did for each other. And yet why did it feel as if we were losing everything?

The door opened behind me, and I turned to tell Teagan I needed just a few more moments and stiffened, my mind whirling, when I realized it wasn’t her. Atlas stood there, his tailored suit dark and perfectly sculpted to his body. It probably cost more than I made in a month. But it looked so good on him, I couldn’t really complain. Not that I would ever complain. Not about him. Not now.

“I sent Teagan to the church. She’ll handle everything. You know her.”