Page 113 of Chasing Olivia (Trace + Olivia 2)

I looked up then and shook my head. “No, I want you there with me. I…I can’t do this alone.”

“Okay,” he smiled and sat patiently waiting for me to get out of the car.

I watched the clock in the car, counting as five minutes passed.

I shook my head roughly and grabbed the door handle.

“I’m ready,” I whispered unnecessarily.

He waited for me to get out of the car before he joined me, not wanting to push me.

I stood at the cemetery gates for a moment, gazing at the intricate design of vines.

Trace took my hand and waited for me to give the cue that I was ready to move forward.

Taking a shaky breath, I placed my hand on the gate and pushed it open. It squeaked loudly on its hinges and I flinched at the shrill sound.

We made our way down the path with slow steps.

The sun shined brightly in the sky, warming my skin. I felt like the sky should have been gray and dismal to reflect my mood.

I repeated Margaret’s directions in my head and veered off the path. I counted the headstones and came to stop when I got to the fifth one.

DEREK ALLEN WYNN

I hadn’t even known his middle name until I read it on the grave marker. How horrible was I that I hadn’t even asked what his middle name was?

I sank to my knees and placed my hand against the cold stone. I was trying desperately to feel something. But I was empty.

The man that lay beneath the ground I sat on was my father. But I didn’t know him. And I never would. That fact broke my heart. So many people took their family for granted, but up until a few days ago all I had was my mom. Trace’s family was great, I loved them completely and I knew they loved me too. But it wasn’t the same.

Trace’s dad was dead now too, but at least he’d known him.

I didn’t have that luxury. All I had was this headstone and a few pictures…the jar of origami stars too, but that wasn’t enough to ever let me get a feel for the kind of person he was. People could tell me stories about him, and I could listen, but they weren’t my memories. I would never get to hold his hand. Or have him walk me down the aisle. I’d never hear him say my name or call him dad. These were all simple things, but they were powerful moments in a person’s life. Moments I would never experience.

I lowered my head, letting my hair fall forward to conceal my face, as a pain filled sob escaped my throat.

Trace didn’t say anything as I cried. I think he knew I didn’t want to hear it.

I placed my hand on the stone, rubbing my fingers over his name.

The flowers lay forgotten at my side. I clutched my stomach in one hand as my sobs threatened to overwhelm me.

I didn’t even know why I was crying.

Was it possible to mourn someone you’d never met? The answer was yes. Because somehow, in this messed up world, we’re all connected.

Trace let me cry until all my tears were shed then helped me up and back to the car.

He turned the car on and sat there. After a moment, he looked over at me and there was pain in his eyes. “I don’t like seeing you like this,” he admitted.

“I’m okay,” I tried to reassure him, but since my eyes were swollen and I barely had a voice, it didn’t do much to make him feel better.

He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed loudly. “Maybe it was a bad idea coming here,” he pointed to the cemetery gates.

“No,” I bowed my head, “I needed this.”

He reached over and cupped my cheek, turning my face towards his. “Are you sure?” He swiped his thumb over my lips. “Because this doesn’t seem very beneficial.”

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