Page 156 of Chasing Olivia (Trace + Olivia 2)

And he held me.

Maybe, somehow, we could keep each other together.

“Fuck this!” Trace yelled from the bedroom.

I came running into the room to see what the problem was. He stood in front of the mirror and the tie he’d been trying to put on had been thrown on the ground. It lay there in a heap looking sad and pathetic…sort of how I’d looked ever since we’d gotten the call about Gramps.

I picked the tie up off the floor and smoothed it out.

“Here, let me help you,” I forced a smile, draping the tie around his neck.

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I hate this.”

“What? Your tie?” I joked, feeling the need to alleviate the tension in the room.

“He shouldn’t be dead. It’s not right,” he opened his eyes to look at me.

“I agree,” I tightened the tie and fixed it into place. “There,” I stepped away.

He was dressed in a black suit with an emerald tie that brought out his eyes.

“I don’t want to go to this,” he stared at his reflection, fiddling with his collar like it was restricting his oxygen even though it was loose.

“Trace,” I grabbed his hands and held them in my own. “We have to. You’d hate yourself if you missed your grandpa’s funeral. It’s okay to be sad and angry. It’s even okay to cry. It doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.”

“You know how my mom wants us all to speak about Gramps?” He waited for me to nod before continuing. “I don’t want to,” he admitted, looking at me with sad eyes partially concealed by his thick-framed black glasses. I hated seeing him like this, but it was understandable.

“Then don’t. She’s not going to be mad if you don’t. Do what you need to do.” I caressed his face with the back of my fingers, trying to offer him as much comfort and support as I could. The past two days had been hard on the both of us, but Trace was handling things better than I’d imagined. He’d had a few outbursts of anger, like with the tie, and he’d broken down crying last night…but I knew he’d be okay with time.

He glanced at his guitar case leaning against the bedroom wall. “What if I sang a song?”

A genuine smile met my lips for the first time in days. “That would be wonderful and I know it would mean more to Gramps than a speech.”

He swallowed thickly, glancing down at the watch adorning his wrist. “We better go.”

He grabbed his guitar case and left the apartment, not bothering to see if I was following.

All I wanted to do was make him feel better but I didn’t know how to do it. There wasn’t an instruction book for something like this. All I could do was love him, no matter what.

With a sigh, I opened the drawer in the nightstand beside the bed and pulled out the letters Gramps had written to Trace and me. I tucked them into my purse, planning to give Trace his after the funeral. I was sure I’d end up reading mine then too, but a part of me wanted to leave it unread. I didn’t want to know Gramps’ final words to me. If I d

idn’t read them, then it was like he wasn’t really gone.

“Bye, Ace,” I petted the dog affectionately on the head and closed the apartment door, making sure it was locked.

Trace was already in the car and he didn’t say anything as we drove to the cemetery.

Even though Gramps had known lots of people, we’d chosen to keep the funeral private. My mom, Nick, Avery, and Luca would be there, but that was it outside of the immediate family.

I followed Trace through the grass, around the headstones, to a spot under a large oak tree. Gramps’ casket was closed, on a platform above the freshly dug ground where it would soon be lowered. I was glad they’d chosen to keep the casket closed. I didn’t want to see Gramps like that. I wanted to remember him like I knew him when he was alive…smiling, laughing, and strong.

Trace set his guitar case down and his mom eyed it with a question in her eyes, but didn’t ask.

Everyone else soon arrived and a man I’d never met before began to speak about Gramps. It was clear the man hadn’t really known Gramps, so I found myself tuning him out.

After he was finished speaking, we each took turns saying a few things about Gramps.

When it was my turn, Trace stood up with me. He entwined our hands together and I knew then, that we were united, and we’d really be okay. Greif had a way of making you forget that in time you’d heal.

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