Page 90 of The Life We Left Behind

I pulled away from Trace even though I didn’t want to and took the tissue he held in his hand, not even wondering where it had come from.

“One moment at a time, Lanes. We’ll get you through this, and then you can breathe.”

How did he always know exactly how I felt?

“Is Cade…”

“He’s with Blake. He’s okay.”

I nodded as I dried my tears in the mirror, careful not to smudge the makeup I’d decided I had to put on for some reason.

“What time is it? Do we need?—”

“We don’t need to do anything until you’re ready. They’ll wait. Everything can wait.”

My mind started to spin then. Had I made all the right arrangements? Did we have enough food for the wake? Would the flowers arrive in time? What had I missed?

A knock on the bedroom door had me looking up to see Blake standing in the doorway.

“We’re ready when you are.”

I nodded, looking at Trace, who just smiled sadly. I was so glad to have him here with us. It all felt a little more possible with him at my side, like I could face it all, even if I wasn’t strong enough. Because I didn’t have to be when he was there.

“I’m ready.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“He was an amazing man.”

“The town won’t be the same without him.”

At a certain point, I’d just tried to smile and nod. Everyone had something to say and looking around the living room that had felt so empty before, it was nice to see so many people here. People who knew my father, who had loved him and respected him. Those who had known him best.

But I didn’t have room inside me for their sadness as well as my own. It was taking everything I had to hold it together. I couldn’t be responsible for trying to make them feel better about their loss when mine felt so overwhelming that it was taking everything I had in me just to nod and smile as person after person came to tell me their feelings.

I think I’d always known that there would be a lot of people at the funeral. But seeing it now with my own eyes was somethingelse. Not everyone had come back to the house, but when we stood at the graveside, saying our goodbyes as we laid my father to rest beside my mother, I’d realized that the entire town stood around me, giving me their silent support.

Theentiretown.

Of course, I’d known she’d be there. There would be no way that Regina would lose face by not turning up at something like this. It wouldn’t have been proper in her eyes, even though she wasn’t welcome.

Trace had tensed at my side as soon as he’d seen her, and I clasped his hand tighter. Now wasn’t the time to make a scene. Or maybe it was. I just didn’t have the energy to deal with her. This day wasn’t about Regina Farrington. It was about my family. The people who mattered.

And now I was standing here in our living room, numbly nodding through all the pleasantries that people seemed to think would make me feel better. Or at least that’s what I thought they were doing. But right about now, I just didn’t see the point of this.

“Delaney,” Trace said gently, taking my hand and drawing me out of the fog of my mind. “Excuse us,” he added to whoever it was that was talking to me now.

Drawing me out of the room, he walked us through the kitchen and out onto the back porch. When he closed the door behind us, the noise from inside faded away, and for the first time since I’d stepped a foot inside that hospital room, I felt the weight lift just a tiny bit.

Trace guided me over to the porch swing, and then suddenly Blake was there, pressing a warm mug into my hands. I looked down at it in confusion.

“This isn’t tea.”

“You don’t like tea.” Blake sat down beside me, pulling a blanket around my shoulders. “Everyone knows hot chocolate soothes the soul.”

I looked up from the cup and really looked at the woman sitting beside me.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

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