Page 6 of All Our Secrets

Three days later…

One second. I took a deep breath.

Theodore’s mother, Rosie, wore red flannel to the funeral. She cried, draped over her son’s casket. The sounds tearing from her throat made my head spin. I looked down, clasping my hands together.Why red?

Two. I blinked, the queasiness rising in my throat.

All I could see was the blood from two nights ago. By the time I made it to the hospital after Theodore’s motorcycle wreck, he was gone.So much blood.I could still smell the metallic scent. I swallowed, studying my black dress pants. Why was Rosie wearing red? Fenkin was as simple as it got in life, but there were plenty of other colors more fitting for her son’s funeral.

Three. Another deep breath.

One after another, Theodore’s family and friends (and mine) came to hug me. The comforting words and pats on the back numbed me. I welcomed it. Anything to prevent my own breakdown.

I swayed on my feet as sobs continued around me. How long had I stood here? I looked around the funeral home, but every face blurred, so I dropped to the pew behind me.

It’s going to be a girl.Theodore’s voice rang in my head.

I closed my eyes and shook my head, as if that would make the memory go away. Instead, I saw Theodore on one knee, hand resting on my still flat stomach, grinning.

“I haven’t even taken a test yet.” My voice cracked as I repeated some of my final words to him. Because maybe, just maybe, if I spoke aloud to him, he’d answer. I’d wake up and this nightmare would be over.

“Ah, don’t matter. I know. Going to be like her mama.”

Oh God. Please. You didn’t do this to me, Theodore.My shoulders shook as the tears sprang free. I covered my face, not wanting a soul to comfort me or touch me. I hated this. I hated it here.

I jumped when someone squeezed my shoulder. Glancing up, I cringed. It was Theodore’s slimy uncle, Robert. And Theodore wasn’t here to get rid of him for me.

“I’m sorry for your loss, kitten.” Robert kept rubbing,rubbingthe spot he touched.

Kitten?

“I’m going to stab your uncle in the eye,”I had yelled one night when we were at his parents’ Christmas party.

Theodore had laughed. “Now don’t be doing that. Can’t have you going to jail. Don’t worry, I came to the rescue, didn’t I? I always will.”

Liar.

I nudged away from Robert’s touch, but rather than taking the hint, he scooted closer to me.

The bench creaked when someone plopped down on my other side. I recognized that piney man smell immediately and stiffened.Not Silas too.I didn’t have the mental energy to put up with his coldness.

“Robert.” Silas’s deep voice drawled out Robert’s name, and chill bumps broke over my skin from the callousness of that single word. “She lost her husband. Yournephew. Give her space.”

Robert frowned at Silas before patting my back. “We need to be there for Peyton.”

The veins along Silas’s thick arm jumped as he made a fist. “Go wipe your face, Peyton. It’s a mess.”

Nothing but the kindest words from my husband’s best friend.Still, Silas gave me an escape, and I took it. Or else, my husband might meet his uncle sooner rather than later.

In the restroom, instead of wiping my face, I sat on the toilet, wishing for the numbness to return. But it never did, so I hurt, and hurt, and hurt. I rubbed my tummy and sobbed. Five pregnancy tests had come back positive, and I had a doctor’s appointment scheduled for next week.

Maybe I’m not.The thought made my chest tighten, and I thumped my fist against it. The tears were full blown. In the stall, I was left to grieve away from eyes.

I’m pregnant.I sucked in a breath and tried to rein in the tears. All I had left of my husband was the life we created inside my womb. I had to do everything I could to protect it. “Sorry, lovebug,” I whispered to him or her. “Mommy’s so sorry.”

Afterward, I wiped my face, looked myself in the eye through the mirror, and sighed. My skin was blotchy, and the dark circles under my eyes spoke of how much I hadn’t slept.Why is this happening? I’d feared those Sunday motorcycle rides every time the gang went.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, I paused at the doorway. Silas waited, resting against the wall with his arms crossed, wearing a blank expression. With him, that was furrowed brows and intense staring with those bottomless black eyes. I called it blank because he did nothing but scowl, although my husband insisted his friend could laugh. Never once had I heard a chuckle.

---