Page 6 of Done Waiting

I nod, not wanting to draw more attention to myself than I already have. The episode at the funeral was more than enough.

Turning my head to hers, I give her a fake smile. “Yes, I’m fine. Just… you know. A little nervous. Memories and all that.”

She nods, understanding in her green eyes. “If I can do anything, please let me know.”

I grab her other hand and give it a squeeze, grateful for her support. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Ben moves to us, a smile on his handsome face. “Are you ladies ready to go inside? It’s a bit chilly with that breeze blowing.”

I match his smile, thinking how lucky I am to have him. “Sure.”

Releasing Chloe’s hand, I wrap my arm through his, then loop the other one around Chloe’s, and the three of us start toward the house.

As we walk up the sidewalk, I give myself a pep talk.You can do this. Everything will be fine.

Hopefully.

An hour later, I’m doubting my sanity as another person walks by me, visibly flinching before they plaster a false smile on their face. Taking a drink of the tea Chloebrought me, my gaze flits around the room.This is fucking horrible. All these people stare at me like I’m going to have a breakdown any second.

As my gaze moves to the table that is a shrine to my dad, memories inundate me. He’s the only one who has always been there for me, never letting me down. My dad always saw me, loving me for who I am, never trying to change me.

Right now, I feel lost. The light in my life has disappeared, leaving behind only darkness.

Tears course down my cheeks when I blink. Setting my tea down, I Impatiently brush them away, hoping no one sees me crying.

Chloe approaches me, sympathy in her eyes and a gentle smile curling up her pink lips. Ben follows behind her, brows creased with worry when he sees me standing in front of the photographs of my dad.

I can’t handle either of them right now. I’m afraid I’ll break down, giving all the people in this room something to gossip about.“I need to use the restroom.” Without waiting for a response, I dash off.

As I approach the downstairs restroom, Mrs. Martin, the nosy neighbor, stands at the end of the line. She hasn’t spotted me yet, thank God.No way am I in the mood to deal with her.

Turning, I slip up the steps, heading to the restroom beside my old bedroom. There’s no one up here, and I gratefully slip inside.

Closing and locking the door, I press my back against it. My head falls back against the door, hot tears slipping down my cheeks as I inhale the familiar scent of home. My heart squeezes inside my chest. It no longer feels like home. Not without my dad.

Lowering my head, I blink rapidly, but the tears are coming too fast, blinding me.

I’m not sure how much time passes before I have no tears left to cry.

Hiccupping, I make my way to the sink, turning it on and cupping my hands beneath the faucet, splashing my face with cold water. I do this several times before turning the water off. Grabbing a towel, I pat my face dry, then stare at my reflection in the mirror.

I look awful!So haggard and pale.

Turning, I’m prepared to toss the towel in the bathroom hamper when my skin prickles. I freeze, my eyes moving to the window.

Dusk has settled over the area, but through the gloom, I swear I see movement across the yard, disappearing behind the rosebush my dad planted for me.

It could be an animal, the rational part of my mind argues.

But my instincts say otherwise.

As if my feet have a mind of their own, I start moving toward the window, my gaze scanning the backyard rapidly, looking for any sign someone is out there.

It’s weird as hell, but I feel like I did at the funeral—as though someone is watching me. My breathing accelerates, fear causing the hair to stand on the back of my neck.

Everything outside the window is still.

Releasing a long sigh, I turn away from the window, shaking my head.Maybe the nightmares about my dad and what happened earlier at the gravesite are a sign I’m losing my damn mind.

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