Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 141951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
“I didn’t even phone him back, actually,” the priest replied. “Doing this for you and Jacob meant more to me than a late-night message from your father, anyway. He really should talk to someone about his anger, though.”
“Tell me about it,” Lucas muttered.
At the same time, the funeral director behind Lucas greeted another guest. “Hello, thank you for coming today to celebrate Jacob’s life with us. You’ll find keepsakes in the gallery room.”
“Thank you,” came the familiar voice.
The sweetest voice Lucas had ever heard.
He spun around to find the owner of that voice dressed in a body conforming, long sleeve dress, black like everyone else, with a hemline on the skirt that fell a couple of inches below her knees. Her flat-soled knee-high boots were still wet from the snow she probably kicked off at the front door, and her black curls, swept back into a messy chignon, were only slightly frizzy from the wind and the snow still peppering her hair.
Another thing he’d done for himself that morning to make the day easier came in the form of silencing his phone—and only checking it to call the funeral home regarding whether or not the storm changed any plans.
His last message to Delaney had been the morning before. He did not expect her to show up at his brother’s memorial, but the day had just become bearable from the way her presence instantly filled up the hollow space in his chest.
A snow angel had found him, it seemed.
“You came in this storm?” he asked Delaney, only slightly concerned with how she managed that in the bad weather conditions.
She shrugged, wringing her hands despite holding his gaze. “I wanted to come for you. I thought I was gonna be late.”
“Nope,” Lucas returned, already reaching out to pull her into the hug she deserved for being so fucking perfect, “you couldn’t have better timing, sweets.”
Chapter 31
“Are you doing okay? It’s been a long afternoon,” Delaney said.
Lucas nodded but didn’t distinguish between whether he was okay or if he also thought the afternoon had been a lot.
Apparently, he had other things on his mind.
Understandably.
“I had a moment where I got mad at Jacob this week,” Lucas said. “I started cleaning out his place—my name is on the lease, and it’s paid up until the end of the month, so it’s something I needed to do. I figured out he’d dropped the gym just before winter, hadn’t contacted his sponsor since Christmas, and it didn’t take long for him to go right back to using what was cheapest. We talked about that once—how he can’t possibly know what these people are cutting into their drugs, if it’s even what he thinks he’s buying … fuck.”
Lucas massaged his eye sockets with his finger and thumb, adding roughly, “I guess it didn’t matter in the end? Even if back then he acted like it did. It pissed me off because what I saw was all that time when he didn’t ask for help. Then I just felt like shit because fuck, he’s not even here to be mad at, anyway.”
She heard the guilt he held inside.
“Anger is a part of grief,” Delaney returned to her somber companion. “That probably won’t be the last time.”
“I don’t want to be mad at him, though.”
“It’ll be harder if you don’t let yourself feel the things you need or want to feel, Lucas.”
Wounds like those took longer to heal.
“Mmm,” he hummed noncommittedly.
Delaney didn’t fault him for the distraction, considering.
In the chair one over from hers, Lucas’s profile darkened with his sadness, and she wished more than anything she could be the thing that helped ease the pain. That just wasn’t how this sort of thing worked.
The gallery, devoid of windows but brightly lit by long lights overhead, gave Delaney lots of items to take her attention while Lucas sat with his feelings beside her in silence.
She didn’t have a reason to rush him.
“I’m going to resign.”
The quiet declaration made Delaney’s head snap around where she found Lucas fiddling with the photograph someone had placed on the pile of other memories beneath Jacob’s urn. One of the many that Lucas picked out among the rest, and had kept tucked in his breast pocket. Lucas flicked the corner edge between two fingers as his furrowed brow and steady gaze remained on the smiling young man staring up from the photo.
One of at least hundreds Delaney had seen of Jacob over the course of the afternoon. She had believed she knew his face well from her time at the cottage in Birch Ridge, but hearing the stories and memories of those who personally knew Lucas’ younger brother helped to give his life a lot of color for her. Their love for him made her feel like she had known him, too.
In a different kind of way, maybe.