Unexpected Gift(15)

I do, eventually. I search for her hand, holding on tight as we make our way closer to the mass of darkness.

My heels sink into the wet ground, and when I glance up from the green blades of grass, I see my mom and my dad. Caden stands beside them, holding Posie. He looks good with a kid in his arms, especially for a man such as himself. He has her head placed against his shoulder, keeping an umbrella over them. My mom is already crying, and my dad holds her through it. Who is taking care of him, though?

“Molly! There you are. Where have you been? I can’t believe you would be late to your own brother’s funeral. How dare you. How dare you!” my mother yells, disdain expressed in her features.

“I’m sorry. It’s been a tough morning.” I ignore her the best I can. I know she is in pain and everyone handles it differently. She likes to lash out and make people feel bad, but what she forgot is that I already feel bad. I don’t need her whipping of words for it.

Caden moves Posie to his other shoulder and steps closer to shield me from the rain. “Are you okay?”

“No. How about you?”

“No.”

I look up to see him staring straight forward at the caskets. His jaw is clenched and flexed. Posie must feel his emotions because she starts to cry. It yanks him out of his thoughts, and he bounces her, rubbing her back and soothing her like a father would. “It’s okay. I’m sorry. It’s okay.” He croons into her ear, and she quickly settles back down.

“You’re good with her,” I say, a little jealous that he is holding my brother’s daughter, but I quickly put that aside. That is just the anger talking. Caden is Brandon’s family, in a different way.

“Nah, she’s just a good kid.”

I agree with that. Brandon always said he got lucky with a baby that didn’t cry much and was all smiles like his mom. “Yeah, she is.”

“I’m sorry, Molly. For your loss.”

This time when our eyes meet, I see how the loss is affecting him. His eyes are red and swollen, but there are no tears. He must have cried in private. “I’m sorry for yours, too, Caden.” I place my hand on his forearm, ignoring the pull I feel in my gut to step closer and wrap my arm around his waist. It is just comfort. That’s all.

Everyone takes their seats when the preacher starts reading something from the bible. I’m not paying attention. My eyes are focused on the identical caskets sitting above the six-foot-deep hole dug for them. Water gathers on the wood, pooling and dripping to the ground. It makes me wonder if Brandon and Amelia are crying, too.

Thunder rolls in the sky, quieting the sound of people sniffling and weeping. It doesn’t quiet the havoc I feel, though. Nothing ever can.





Chapter Seven





Caden





“No. I don’t know when I’ll be back to work. I put that I needed two weeks. Yeah? Well, that isn’t my problem.” I toss my phone on the couch. My boss is such an asshole. He knows I have not one, but two, deaths in the family, and he wants me back now.

We are still in Glendive, and Brandon’s lawyer reached out to me, asking to meet me today, so I’m currently fumbling with my tie. I need to leave in ten minutes if I don’t want to be late, but the damn knot won’t knot. “Damn it!” I take the tie off with jerky movements and ball it up, throwing it onto the bed. I have never been able to tie a tie.

Forget it. I’m foregoing the damn tie. It isn’t my lawyer I’m meeting with anyway. I run my hand through my thick hair, getting the tangles out, and then I sit on the bed. I lay back, staring at the ceiling of the hotel room I'm temporarily staying in for a bit. Today, I’m supposed to be playing golf with Brandon, drinking beer, and listening to him talk about how wonderful his life is, and I’d tell him how much I envy him.

I did. He had everything a man wanted. I don’t have it because I choose not to. I like my way of living, even if it is a bit lonely sometimes. I tap my fingers on my stomach, thinking about Molly.

Shit. I have no reason to be thinking about her. She hates me, and even if she does remind me a little of Blake Lively with those brown eyes and blonde hair, her ‘better than you’ attitude annoys me. Well, it is fun getting her all riled up. It’s a mission every time I find myself around her.

Except for lately. I don’t feel like giving her a hard time, and I know she won’t appreciate it, given the situation. I let out a deep exhale and try to rub the heaviness out of my eyes from exhaustion, but it doesn’t work. They still feel like a hundred pounds are on them. If I don’t get up and get moving, I’ll miss the meeting with Brandon’s lawyer, and all I want to do is nap.

I sigh one more time and roll off the mattress, much to my dismay, and put on my dark blue blazer, leaving it unbuttoned. The mirror catches my eye, and I pause, risking a glance at myself. I have dark circles under my eyes, more so than whenever I pull an all-nighter at the hospital. My shirt has wrinkles, my hair doesn’t have product in it, and my face looks gaunt.

But I guess losing someone you love does that to you. “I can’t do this.” I set my briefcase down and grip the dresser the mirror hung above. My insides feel shredded and sore from the emotional marathon. Depression holds on tight, sending me on a rollercoaster ride that keeps going down but makes sure to throw me for a loop.