Page 128 of Tanner

His hair is combed back and curls at his collar. He shaved his beard off, and the square lines of his jaw are on full display as he clenches his teeth. His back is straight, accentuating his broad shoulders. If we were anywhere else, I’d appreciate the way he looks in his fine threads and silk tie.

“Give him, oh Lord, your peace and let your eternal light shine upon him,” the priest prays over the black casket.

I grab Tanner’s hand, and he squeezes it. His face is stoic, and his eyes are fixed straight ahead. He laces his fingers with mine and kisses my hand. Today is hard for him … really hard.

A small gray headstone lies on the ground. His father’s name and his dates of birth and death are etched into it. It’s not a fancy monument or ornate in any way, just a simple grave marker. A week ago, Edward Sexton took his life. As his sons departed the Sexton manor after confronting him about his part in the death of their mother, Edward took his life before the police were able to apprehend him. He wasn’t even convicted of a crime yet.

When Tanner explained the sounds of the gunshot, the chaos of the scene outside, and the horror of hearing the news, I felt sick to my stomach. I still do. He fell to the floor and held his head and cried. We stayed on the bedroom floor for hours, holding one another.

Part of me wishes I’d kept my mouth shut. It’s a small part because I know I did the right thing, especially once the flash drive was handed over to the authorities. Missy was arrested for conspiracy to murder Marina Sexton. It’s going to be a long-drawn-out battle to prove Missy killed Marina, and I know it will take its toll on Tanner and his brothers. Still, the process has begun, and there’s no turning back from doing what is right. Tanner’s mother was never meant to leave the earth as early as she did. I’m glad her death will be avenged.

Still, I hurt for my husband.

“Oh God, by whose mercy the faithful departed find rest, send your holy angel to watch over this grave.” The priest’s words echo in the silence of the afternoon.

I look to my side at the two empty seats reserved for Bryce. He chose not to sit and is standing instead on the opposite side of the plot. His arms are wrapped around Tessa as he stares at the casket with red-rimmed eyes. He’s been so angry this week—and justly so. Tessa said he’s been at work round the clock. It’s his method of avoiding emotions. He has the added stress of making sure everyone knows Sexton is still in business. Edward paraded himself around town as the face of the business. Bryce has to remind everyone that he’s the brains.

Despite Bryce’s anger and overwhelming week of work, it was his idea the brothers attend the ceremony. There was no wake or traditional burial. Just this simple graveside prayer service. Edward’s suicide made headlines, but his funeral wasn’t announced in the paper or shared with friends. They didn’t think he deserved that.

Actually, Austin didn’t think Edward deserved anything. He wanted to donate the body to science and then burn it when they were done. I hate to admit, I kind of agreed with him, but Bryce was the voice of reason. Their mother had raised them to be family men. Despite Edward’s egregious actions, he was their father. He should be buried.

I look to my right, past where Tanner’s sitting, and see two empty seats. Austin and Jalynn did not attend. He refused to take part in this, and Jalynn is staying by his side to make sure he doesn’t run away from his feelings. With liquor and illegal street racing off the table, she said he’s been reading. To my surprise, he’s been reading his mother’s favorite book, Pride & Prejudice.

When I told Tanner, his reply was, “It’s about time.”

According to Jalynn, Austin acts like he doesn’t care about anything when, really, he’s more in tune with his feelings than most people. He’s sensitive, and he doesn’t know how to work through his emotions on his own.

While Bryce, Austin, and Tanner are disgusted by their father, none were prepared for his death. That’s why they’re each taking it differently. Tanner has been silent, pouring himself into painting. We’ve been staying in Bryce’s Tahoe lake house. The one where Tanner spent his childhood summers. He turned one of the rooms into a makeshift art studio, working away his feelings. The portraits are all bold and red. So much red paint. I’ve been giving him space as he works out his aggression with a brush, and when he needs comfort, I give it to him in any way I can—with my body, with my words, with the soft touch of my hand through his hair.

As the ceremony ends, Bryce is the first to turn his back. There are no flowers to throw on the grave, so we exchange hugs and bid farewell before Bryce and Tessa head to their car. They’re a lovely couple. I’ve only known them a week, but this chaos has thrown the three of us girls into a bond that no one would understand. Hearing how Bryce courted her has given me a new outlook on the man. He seems hard on the outside, but he’s really a big romantic at heart.

A slight breeze comes through, and the soft sounds of birds in a nearby tree serenade us. Tanner is standing by his chair with his hands in his pockets and his head bowed. The priest has gone as well, so it’s only the two of us and the casket waiting to be lowered to the ground. I take heavy breaths and wait—as I have been—for Tanner.

“I told him he was dead to us,” he finally says with a raspy voice. He swallows. “The last thing I ever said to my father was that he was dead to us.”

I turn to him and run my thumb along the palm of his hand. “You were angry.”

“I meant it.” He briefly closes his eyes.

“You can’t blame yourself for his actions.”

His chest puffs out, and out comes a long exhale, a week’s worth of hurt. He turns to me and raises his chin. As I look up into those blue eyes, I stifle a sigh at the sight of the glazed-over look in them.

“I know my words alone didn’t cause him to kill himself. His vanity was the reason he took his own life. My father couldn’t live with his name being slandered in the paper. Everyone would know of his sins. That was worth more to him than being present for his own sons. That’s the part I’m having a hard time reconciling. He always placed himself before us.”

I place my hand on his cheek and feel the heat of his skin as he lays into it. “You deserve so much more.”

He pulls me in, his hand snaking around my waist and tugging on my chiffon dress. “I know, sweet Harper. I know. That’s why I’m ready to be the man I was meant to be. No more hiding out. I’m ready to live my legacy.”

“What’s that?” I ask with bated breath.

He takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. “A good son, loyal brother, and most importantly, a devoted husband.”

“You’re already all of those things.”

“Now, it’s time I prove to myself that I am.”

I tilt my head to the side. “How do you plan to do that?”