Page 1 of By Your Side

prologue

November

Adeline

“Adeline, why are you just standing in this corner?” The voice at my side is full of thinly veiled contempt.

Hilary’s mouth presses into a thin line as she grips my elbow, pulling me toward a group of people I don’t know. People Scott probably didn’t know, but Hilary felt they should be at his funeral.

“These are clients of mine who wanted to pay their respects for my loss. It’s unseemly for my daughter-in-law to be hiding in a corner.”

My neck tightens as I’m dragged along. This isn’t what Scott would have wanted, but before I even had a chance to breathe, Hilary informed me she booked the conference room at the MacTaggert Hotel for her son’s funeral reception. Despite my protests, here we are. Stuffy food with people who had no importance in Scott’s life.

Her tone and face morph into a pleasant mask as she loosens the grip on my elbow, introducing me to one person after another who is meaningless to the life I shared with Scott. People I won’t be able to pick out of a lineup by the end of the day. Pulling my arm away, the faces blur as I shake their hands and listen to empty words of consolation before the conversation shifts to business.

How did my husband’s funeral turn into some sort of fucked up meet and greet? Hilary hadn’t even deigned to call Scott in the last eight months, but his death is an opportunity for her to boost her business.

A gentle hand comes to rest on my arm, a comforting voice cutting in. “Adeline, let’s get you some food. I don’t think I’ve seen you eat today.”

My mom wraps her arm around me, guiding me away as I swallow hard and look up at the ceiling to clear my gaze.

“Thanks, Mom, but I don’t think I can eat.” Pulling at the high waist of my black dress, it snaps back into place, gripping me relentlessly. Crossing my arms over my stomach, I try to ignore the waves of nausea that keep hitting me.

She grabs a plate, tsking me, as she adds some fruit and a slice of bread and butter. “Sweetheart, you need to eat, please. This is almost over and then you can take the time you need to grieve in your own way.” Her low voice is hard as she glares at Hilary. “If she wasn’t Scott’s mother, I would kick her and those people out.”

That gets a chuckle out of me as I take the plate from her. “She sure knows how to make any occasion an opportunity to network. Even if it’s insanely inappropriate.”

We sit down and I nibble at the food, gazing around at the many people who came to celebrate Scott’s life.

“I’m going to get you a drink. When I get back, I hope to see most of that gone.” Mom kisses the top of my head and disappears to where they’ve laid out the drinks.

People are talking and laughing all around me, the noise an endless assault on my frayed nerves.

Stabbing my fork into a slice of pineapple, my hand freezes when I hear my name mentioned behind me. The feminine voices unfamiliar as they speak in hushed tones. “Adeline didn’t even cry at the funeral. How can you not cry at your husband’s funeral?”

“Right? I don’t think I could act like it’s just another day. I heard she’s his only beneficiary, and he left her a lot of money, so she’s probably not even sad.”

They walk away, my ears filling with a ringing sound as I drop my fork to the plate, the nausea boiling to the surface as I race to the bathroom.

Thankfully, it’s empty, but I head to the last stall, locking it before crouching down. Clutching my fist, I press it into my chest and try to breathe the way my therapist taught me until my head stops spinning.

How dare they speak about something they have no knowledge of. Anger simmers under the grief. I would give up all the money Scott left me to have him back at my side.

Another wave of nausea hits, but it passes as quickly as it came. Opening my purse, I pause when I see the pregnancy test in there. My period is several days late, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to check because the idea that Scott was ripped out of my life only to find out this latest round of IVF worked would be too much.

Shaking my head, I start to close my purse, but the test calls to me.

I need to know. Opening the test, I take a breath and prepare myself.

It doesn’t matter how many times I do this, somehow peeing on the damn stick never gets any easier, but this time Scott isn’t waiting on the other side of the door, ready to either celebrate or comfort each other depending on the outcome.

My eyes blur as I glance at the time and turn the test over.

The door to the bathroom creaks and voices fill the room as I press a hand over my mouth, the private moment interrupted. This day couldn’t get any worse. My chest is tight, each breath laborious as tears threaten to fall.

“I can’t believe Adeline.” Hilary’s voice is snide. “She disappeared again. My son gave her the best years of his life and she can’t even behave properly at his funeral.”

Someone responds, but the sound of running water drowns their voice out.

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