After All (Cape Harbor #1)(42)

Outside, the sun was bright and caused Brooklyn to squint. Seconds later, a pair of sunglasses covered her eyes, and she sighed. She lifted her face toward the sun and let the warmth wash over her until Monroe started tugging her arm toward the waiting car.

The black limo wove through town, making unnecessary turns. The funeral was for show. There wasn’t a body to bury. Not a limb, a piece of clothing, or a lock of hair to put six feet underground, but people needed closure, and this was the way to get it. People lined the streets, as if a limousine driving to a funeral warranted some sort of parade. They waved, not knowing who was hiding behind the dark tinted glass. And there were signs. Signs everywhere with Austin’s name.

“Everyone loved him,” she muttered.

“They did.”

“Don’t you find it odd that people only profess their love for someone after they die? I’m surprised people don’t test loyalty by faking their own deaths just to see how their friends will react. Who will show up at their funeral? Who will cry tears? Who will mourn a man they didn’t truly know?”

That was Brooklyn’s thought when she had received the phone call that Austin was missing. That he was faking his own death to see if she would leave like she had threatened after he had told her he didn’t love her anymore. If he didn’t love her, there was no reason to stay. She hadn’t wanted to believe Graham when he had phoned. She had thought it was a joke, that if something had happened, his mother would call. She received her answer as soon as she showed up at the Woodses’ house. Police were everywhere, and the chatter on the radio—the one Austin kept in his room—proved to be true. Her boyfriend, the man she had planned to spend the rest of her life with, was missing.

The car pulled into the parking lot of the church. It was filled with cars parked tightly together, and there was a yellow school bus dropping off a group of mourners. Austin’s family would be the last to enter. They would walk down the red, worn-out carpet of the aisle, on display for everyone to look at, to feel sorry for. Brooklyn stared out the window, wondering what the hell she was doing. She was a mere shell of herself, weak and unable to function. In a few moments she would have to put on a brave face and be strong for Austin’s mother. She was the girlfriend, and if Carly could function normally, so could she.

She didn’t deserve to be there, at least not as family, but she couldn’t exactly tell Carly why. The secret she kept weighed heavily on her, pushing down on her already-broken heart. It was her burden to bear and one she would take to the grave if she had to.

The car door swung open, and Brooklyn caught the eyes of Bowie staring down at her. All her mind saw was Austin standing behind him. They had been inseparable, best friends almost until the end. She knew Bowie’s secrets, and he knew hers. His outstretched hand waited. It would make sense for him to escort her into the church, to sit by her, to be her shoulder to cry on. She had spent years doing that, confiding in him. But that was weeks ago. Life was different now. She ignored him and mustered up her own strength to climb out of the limo. Standing on her own two feet, she saw Graham up ahead and walked toward him, calling out his name softly. It was his arm that she reached for, and if he was confused, he didn’t show it.

Inside the vestibule, Austin’s family gathered. His aunts, uncles, and cousins surrounded Carly as if they were protecting her from more sorrow. She had lost everything. Both loves of her life taken by the sea. Yet, she was strong, an example to all the women out there. As soon as she and Brooklyn made eye contact, the crowd parted. They hugged tightly, like mother and daughter. “You’ll sit next to me,” Carly told her.

“I shouldn’t. It should be your family.” Truth was, Brooklyn wanted to sit in the back. She wanted to be the first one to leave.

“You are family.”

Brooklyn wanted to argue with her, to tell her the truth. She nodded and squeezed Carly’s hand. There was no way Brooklyn was saying anything. Not today, and not anytime soon. Aside from Bowie, no one knew about the last words Austin had spoken to her, and she was going to keep it that way.

“Brooklyn!”

She turned at the sound of her name and scanned the parking lot. Running toward her, in high heels, was her best friend. Brooklyn broke off from the group and rushed toward Rennie. The two friends collided and held each other tightly. “I’m so sorry,” Rennie said.

The women parted and stared into each other’s eyes. “He’s gone, Rennie. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“You’re going to come back to Seattle and stay with me until you figure it out.”

Before Brooklyn could respond, her father touched her on her arm lightly and led her toward the church. Her family, her support system, surrounded her. She needed this. She needed their comfort, their warmth, and their love.

The large picture of Austin that sat at the altar was one that Brooklyn had taken of him a few months back. They had taken Bowie’s boat out for the day and planned to spend the night on the water. The sun was setting, and Austin was glowing. He was leaning against the bow and just happened to smile when she pressed down to snap a photo. Once they were back on land, she rushed to the drugstore to have the film developed. The three days it took to get her roll of film back were pure agony. However, the picture had proved to be worth it. She smiled at the memory. One of their happiest . . . and one of their last.

The reverend took to the pulpit, opened his book, and started speaking. The words washed over Brooklyn as she stared at Austin’s photo. She missed him. She hated him. She loved him. Every emotion she could possibly have was taking over her body and senses. She wanted to scream, to punch him, to dive deep into the ocean to look for him. She thought about swimming out until she couldn’t swim anymore to wait for him. He would come for her. That much she believed. He wouldn’t leave her there alone. Not like he already had. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.