Page 13 of Unforeseen Love

“Hunnybunch, I’ve been trying to reach you.”

I lean my head back in my chair and close my eyes. “Don’t call me that. You know I hate it,” I grit out.

She stifles a laugh, and I already wish I hadn’t called her back, but she doesn’t seem to be getting the message.

“You don’t mean that.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. I swear she gives me a headache, and it’s only been seconds.

“Yes, I do, and you need to stop. Not just the pet names but the calling me, take me not answering as a sign.”

She huffs down the phone, and I can imagine her stomping her foot. She always was a spoilt brat.

“Listen, we can work this out. The time apart is just what we need. When the restrictions are eased, we’ll get together. And I can remind you just how good of a couple we are.”

Honestly, she’s delusional, but I don’t have the energy to handle her theatrics. The more I say no, the more she’ll say yes, and the toxic cycle continues to repeat itself.

“Yeah, whatever. If you say so.”

She’s the reason I didn’t come home for two years, a narcissist through and through. I’m pissed off with myself that it took me as long as it did to see her for who she really is. She’s oblivious to anyone but herself. At first, I was drawn to how confident and self-assured she came across, but take away her makeup and those caterpillar eyelashes she can’t be without, and she’s someone else entirely. The truth is, I liked her with or without all the fluff––appearance-wise. It was her personality I found to be ugly. But damn if she didn’t hide it well.

You don’t claim to love someone and then do the cliche thing and jump in the sack with your boyfriend’s best mate. Ricky was the one who persuaded me to go to Ireland with him in the first place. He was the one who spotted Orla, but it was clear I was the one she was interested in––well, until she wasn’t.

I’m stuck between the angry and hurt stage, but not heartbroken. I cared for her, of course, but it wasn’t love. Maybe that’s what drove her into his arms? Who knows? And truthfully, who the fuck cares?

ChapterNine

Sienna

He infuriates me to no end. He hasn’t even been here five minutes, and he’s throwing his weight around like he owns the place. Okay, granted, he kind of does, but that's beside the point.

And where has he been until now, while Ewan has been struggling with his health?

Ewan looked at him with pride. He’d mentioned Theo from time to time, of course, in conversation, but since he always referred to him as Teddy, I never really gave him much thought. Besides, if someone wants to talk about someone or something, they will. I’m not a big sharer. It’s why I always got on well with Ewan. He never pried, but he was always there for me, and he was always genuine.

Pulling out my mobile from my desk drawer, I type out a quick text to Quinn.

Me: He’s a grade-A arsehole!

I wiggle my mouse, so my computer comes out of sleep mode, and I type in my password.

Checking my emails, I have order confirmation of the extra hand sanitisers I requested. I’ve always been a bit of a germaphobe, so I’ve been using hand sanitiser for years, and yes, I’ve been on the receiving end of jokes for years because of it. I just like the idea that if I can’t wash my hands, I’m not caught short. ‘Be prepared’–– I was a girl guide, and the motto always stuck with me. I used to love going every Wednesday, and camping in the summer holidays was my favourite, but I quit going after my mum died. It just didn’t seem important anymore, and the joy I’d get from showing her my newest badge, before meticulously sewing it onto my sash, used to make all the hard work worth it. It didn’t even matter what the badge was for––you’d think I’d found the cure for the common cold with the way she’d act as though it was the most fantastic achievement.

I struggled with school after she passed. I felt insecure and unsafe. There wasn’t much in the way of bereavement support, and grief doesn’t come with an expiration date.

There are days when I feel fine and my thoughts are of happy memories when I think of both my mum and nan. But there are other times when I’m filled with so much despair. A physical ache will come out of nowhere and suck the very air from my lungs. Sometimes, I wonder if my nan died of a broken heart after losing my mum, the sorrow too overwhelming—she was never the same. It was only a few years after my mum passed when I lost my nan too. Her heart just gave out.

I stayed with my nan's cousin until I was eighteen, and then the little that was left over from the sale of the house and her savings were inherited by me.

It was enough to pay for Uni without student loans, but I still got a part-time job. Most of the money I was left is still in my savings account. Eventually, I’d like to get a mortgage, and while I’m living here and the rent is so cheap, it works out an easier way to keep adding to my house fund.

It’s what ultimately sent me on my career path, and as morbid as it sounds, death is the only guarantee in life. No one lives forever. I figured the world would never be in short supply when it comes to funeral directors and embalmers. After cleaning and preparing the body, there is something uniquely significant about preparing the deceased in those final stages. The hair and make-up help replicate the person’s likeness and essence for their final journey.

Not every case is the same, and embalming isn’t always necessary for natural deaths, but I find it does help firm up the skin before make-up application. But majority of the time, it comes down to the wishes of both the family and the deceased.

I find comfort when families visit their loved ones in the chapel of rest and comment how they look like them. It's always so important to get the parting of their hair right or the shade of lipstick. I’ve even had a few family members who have wanted to help do the make-up of their loved ones. There is still a lot of stigma associated with social norms where funeral practices are concerned, and it's one of the things I loved so much about Ewan. He was open to new funeral practices. The hardest part is the cost. We still have overhead expenses to consider, and I know for so many, the financial burden is onerous on the ones left behind, even when so many make preparations for the inevitable.

My phone vibrates, bringing me back to the present.

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