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“They just texted me that they were leaving when you walked up.”
“Perfect.” I pull my shoulders back and breathe deeply as I walk to the door. “See you in a minute, babe. I love you.”
The words fall out like I’ve been saying them for years. My eyes go wide, as I knock on the door, praying Colt won’t say anything right now. Of course I just blurted something that important out. At my dad’s funeral. Then run away. Classy isobviouslymy middle name.
The door opens quickly and Mr. Guard beckons me in. “Come in, Miss Carter. Thank you for coming in early, I apologize that we missed some of these forms the other day. I’m afraid since my receptionist left I haven’t been as on top of my paperwork.”
“That’s okay, Mr. Guard. It happens to the best of us,” I reassure him.
Mr. Guard hands over two forms to be signed, both of them just simple contracts about the work he did. I sign quickly, standing up to shake his hand and walk out of his small office. That room reminds me far too much of the first time I was here, something I’m eager to not relive anytime soon. Walking out of there is a relief, my lungs greedily sucking in air as I gain my composure again. Today I’m acting like I’m playing a part, the part of the strong daughter who takes care of her mother and doesn’t need to shed tears to grieve. Inside though, I feel like I’m drowning in all of my silent tears.
Strong arms circle around me, pulling me into a hard chest. I hear Archer’s voice above me, speaking to someone as he strokes my hair. When Grayson answers I turn around to see all my men circled around me, talking quietly about checking things. I realize then that in the few minutes it took me in the office all of them showed up and immediately made sure everything was ready for Dad’s funeral. Tears fill my eyes as I take in all of their sad, concerned faces that are staring at me with so much love my heart hurts.
“You’re here,” I murmur. “How did you get here so fast?”
“You know how I drive, princess.” Tuck winks at me, his smile looking strained but he’s trying.
“Thank you. I’m so glad you’re all here. You guys were saying everything is all set up?” I question, my eyes moving from face to face.
“Everything is ready, beautiful. People are starting to show up and your aunt finally got your mom inside. They’re currently in a room over from the funeral drinking coffee,” Mason answers.
“Good. That’s good,” I mumble with a tight smile.
“Let’s get to the room so you can welcome everyone,” Archer says behind me, squeezing my shoulders in comfort. “We’ll be right beside you the whole time.”
“Okay.” I can do this. Ineedto do this.
Walking to the funeral room feels like it takes forever, my feet dragging with every step. I don’t have a choice in the matter, Mom definitely can’t do it which only leaves me. Dad’s parents have been gone since I was in junior year and his siblings are all coming from farther out aside from Aunt Patty who’s calming Mom down. I hate condolences though. The people mean well and it’s a nice sentiment, but having to thank people for coming and saying they’re sorry is almost as painful as the day Dad passed. It’s like it reopens the wound of grief, erasing any progress that was made to heal it.
The funeral starts filling up, the line of people entering just a blur of movement and sound. True to their word, my guys are by my side the entire time, lending me their support through light touches, soft words, and their unwavering presence. We get a few odd looks whenever the guys change who is giving me the affection. That’s something to deal with another day, today is about Dad.
Mom comes in last, her sobs tearing my heart out when she sees the casket at the front of the room. Aunt Patty manages to get her to the front bench where the rest of his siblings are already seated. The row behind is open halfway for the Wilds, their parents already sitting there. One seat is left open in the front, a seat meant for me, but my feet refuse to move to it.
My strength is vanishing as the room of people keep glancing at me, their faces showing pity and sadness, both emotions I’d rather run from than walk to. I remind myself that there’s no other choice, this is something that I have to do. I have to sit in that empty seat beside my mom. I have to listen to people talk about the amazing person he was. I have to hold it together and give Dad the goodbye he deserves.
There are three eulogy’s being read today. One from Aunt Patty, one from Old Hank, and one that is supposed to be Mom’s but she asked me to do it instead. Aunt Patty talks about how much her big brother taught her growing up, how much he meant to her, and told stories of their childhood. Old Hank praised the man that my Dad was. He talked about how my dad changed his life by taking a chance on someone everyone looked down on. The room laughs and cries with them, living these memories that we all have of the wonderful man that is my dad. When Mom’s name is called to step forward, I go to stand up for her when her hand lands on my arm. She smiles at me, the tears still falling down her cheeks as she gets up to take the stand.
Mom stands in front of us for a minute, her pain and love written across her face as she tries to find the words she wants to say. My own tears fill my eyes as I watch her find her strength to say goodbye to dad. Someone squeezes my shoulder from behind, their comforting touch enough to crack the hold on my tears.
“I wasn’t going to come up here today,” Mom starts, her voice shaking. “But then I heard all the wonderful moments that all of you had with Reginald. I realized that these memories are what keeps him alive in all of us. These memories are what honour him even in his death.” Mom’s voice cracks at the end, her hands shaking badly as she wrings them together.
“Reg was the most wonderful man I had ever met. You couldn’t help but smile when he smiled, or laugh when he laughed. He was my best friend and the love of my life. When he died a part of me died with him, a part that I will never get back, and I felt lost. Remembering hurt too much but forgetting wasn’t an option. I know now that I need to talk about and reminisce about these things. I need to remember the way he spun me around our kitchen most nights, dancing like it was our first dance all over again. I need to remember the way he cried when Brayleigh was born, his tears flowing freely as he held our beautiful baby girl. I need to remember the way he whistled while he worked or the way he gave time, attention, and love to every single living creature that came through his life. He was a beautiful man and he deserves to be remembered.
“I don’t know why he was taken from us,” Mom murmurs. “All I know is that his life and who he was should be celebrated. I love you, Reginald Carter. You were the best husband and an even better father. I will miss you with every single breath I take. Wait for me at the gates, my love. It might take me awhile to get there, but we’ll be together again.”
I don’t even realize the sobs that are wracking my body, I can’t see through my tears. Arms come around me as I’m picked up and sat on one of my guys’ laps. Hands are stroking my hair, my back, anything and everything to comfort me. I sit there through the rest of the service, the voices around me nothing more than white noise as my body goes numb from the onslaught of emotions.
Small hands pick up my own, I know it’s my mom since I can feel Mom’s wedding rings on her left hand. When I look up, she’s kneeling in front of me, the rest of the room cleared out except for my aunt and my Wilds.
“It’s okay, darling. I’m so so sorry. I shouldn’t have placed all of this on you,” Mom apologizes, kissing the backs of my hands. “I’ve been so selfish, honey. You’ve been strong though, stronger than me that’s for sure. You don’t have to be the strong one anymore, though. Lean on me, lean on your boys. You don’t need to be everything for everyone anymore.”
My tears renew, all the pain and grief I’ve been trying so hard to hide these past few days pouring out of me. I don’t need to be strong, I can be vulnerable now. Those words are enough for me right now. I want to tell my mom that it’s okay, that she did what she needed to do for herself. The words are trapped behind my sobs, the only thing coming out is a choked noise that hurts my throat.
“Shhh, baby. You’re okay,” Archer whispers in my ear. “Let’s take you home.”
Nodding my head, I cling to his neck and let him carry me out of here. I don’t check on my mom, I don’t check on my aunt, I don’t check on anyone at all. I let myself be the one taken care of now, I let myself stop worrying about everyone else for at least a little while. Tomorrow is another day, today I need to cry for myself. I deserve to be a daughter mourning her father, not a caretaker for everyone else.
Chapter Twenty-Three
