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AsI’mputtingthe finishing touches on my makeup, I look in the mirror again, and I’m pleased with the lies my reflection tells. No one will be able to see the destruction of my heart and the fissures in my soul as long as my makeup stays intact—at least, that’s what I tell myself.
With a final glance and last pucker of my lips, I put my makeup away. By now, I regret never getting that cup of coffee. It’s only a little after nine, and I’m already feeling exhausted, which doesn’t bode well for the day ahead of me.
Needing my fix, I call the number I know by heart now and listen to the messages that will never change. I play all five one more time before I decide I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.
“Hey sweets,” Kas greets me as soon as I open the door, and an embarrassing squeak leaves my throat. “Are you ready? It’s almost time to leave.”
I narrow my eyes with suspicion at his cheery tone and ask, “What are you doing here?” It’s a stupid question. I should have predicted that Lila would call him. If I hadn’t been so busy worrying about cleaning myself without actually touching parts of my body and busting the mirror, I might have felt something other than relief that none of the guys contacted me.
“Came to make sure you girls are ready. Shall we?” He’s holding out his arm to me with an easy smile on his lips, and I give in. I place my arm in the crook of his elbow, finding it easier to play along than to demand answers.
Especially since I don’t have a leg to stand on. I skulked out in the early hours of the morning without letting them know. I feel like I’m taking advantage since I know there’s no way they’re going to deny me anything today, just as I know the fight will come later.
“I’m sorry,” I say without really meaning it, and my tone must give me away. Although Kas looks at me with a concerned look in his blue eyes, he doesn’t say anything.
When we join Lila in the kitchen, I can’t even muster up any negative feelings toward her. Of course, she was going to tell Kas my whereabouts, and I know it was the right thing to do. Do I wish she would have told me? Sure. But I should have been the one to tell them.
“You look beautiful, Mia. Mark would have loved what you’re wearing.” Lila runs a hand down my arm, lingering a little as she reaches my elbow.
I give her an apologetic smile that I don’t really feel and say, “I hope so.”
Sitting down on the chair, I barely pay attention to Kas and Lila talking around me. I’m a spectator or an actor who’s waiting to deliver their lines. It’s as if nothing around me affects me, I’m just here for the ride—going through the motions without feeling any of it.
“Let’s go,” Lila says, and I only now notice that she’s changed some of her clothes as well.
She’s wearing the same black dress as before, but in her hair is a pink Camellia flower—like the ones I ordered to place on Mark’s casket and for everyone to wear—and the cardigan she’s wearing reaches her ankles instead of the short one she wore when I got here.
The small church is packed with people.
Even though we’re walking down the aisle forty-five minutes before the service starts, I spot at least twenty people from Serendipity. I’m surprised that even Luis and Martin are here. After what I did with Luis, I feel awkward seeing him here, but he was always nice to Mark. That must be why Lila invited him along with most of the Serendipity people.
“You can go say hi, sweets,” Kas whispers in my ear. When I shake my head, he adds, “You don’t have to, but don’t avoid it for our sake. We know there’s nothing going on between you and him.”
Shaking my head again, I murmur, “I don’t want to talk to Luis, but he’s welcome to stay since Lila invited him.”
“I didn’t invite him,” Lila immediately says, and I roll my eyes.
In a tone that rings with finality, I say, “It doesn’t matter whether it was you or Martin. He’s welcome.”
I wave awkwardly at the two businessmen, and their reactions couldn’t be more different if they tried. Where Martin’s smile is sympathetic and sad, Luis doesn’t smile. He grimaces and his eyes are trained on where Kas is touching me. When his cold eyes collide with mine, I can’t stop the shiver that’s running down my spine.
What the hell was that about?
As we make our way down the aisle, I spot my family and, of course, Alec and Coen. They’re all sitting closest to the altar, though they’re divided. The benches are too small to seat over four people unless you want to get inappropriately cozy with the person next to you. My dad, Reid, and Jewell are on the right, and my guys are waiting for us on the left.
“Umm… I should…” Even though Lila doesn’t complete her sentence, it’s obvious what she wanted to say.
Linking my arm with hers, I say, “Come sit with us. You and Mark were close once, and he spent his last moments protecting the both of us, so you belong up here.”
Her breath hitching is the only answer I get, and it’s all I need.
As we get closer, I see how Alec and Coen look at Lila, like she’s an unwelcome interloper. I tighten my grip on her arm and shake my head at them. She’s sitting with me.
After making Lila sit down on the wooden bench, I quickly say hi to my family. Each of them is wearing a pink Camellia as requested, and Jewell is even wearing pink shoes. I know it’s normal to wear a color the deceased loved, but this week Lila has reminded me over and over that Mark’s favorite color was whatever mine was. While mine isn’t pink, he always thought it was. Making it fitting to use as part of the theme.
The guys huddle together to give Lila and me as much room as possible, and the small act makes my heart swell and break simultaneously. Before sitting down, I take the small program I had printed, complete with Lord of the Rings, just as Mark would have wanted.
Kas and I met with the minister the other day, and if he found my request for music odd, he didn’t show it. I thought ‘The Road Goes Ever On… Pt. 1’ would be too much. However, the minister assured me it was fine, just as he did when I asked him to deliver Mark’s eulogy. Even though I’m expected to do so, I can’t. And even if I could, I’m not worthy of that honor. Not when it’s my fault we can’t even have an open casket. If we did, people would forget their grief and leave with a nightmare vision.
