I drove to the cemetery on autopilot, grateful for the police that blocked other cars, letting us through without stopping. There were already too many tabs open in my mind to add the aggravation of navigating traffic.

Finally, we pulled through the iron gates of Sunset Memorial Gardens and slowly wound our way over the path that cut through the rolling green hills, all the way to the back, where the spot beside my grandfather had waited decades for Granny.

As I exited the car, I took a deep breath of the cool air and strode toward the blue canopy with the funeral home's logo on it. Car doors closed and I turned to scan the line of vehicles behind mine—Granny had drawn a crowd.

Sadness and a strange sense of pride tightened my chest. She did so much for so many, and everyone who knew her loved her, but only a few of us got to call her ours. What would she think of all these people putting their lives on hold for the day to celebrate hers? Knowing her, she'd probably say it was silly, but it wasn't. It was proof of a life well-lived.

I flinched as someone gave my shoulder a light squeeze, and tingles rushed through me as Nate's cologne drifted by on the breeze. When I looked over, concern furrowed his brow.

"What is it?" I asked.

Nate tipped his head toward the people surrounding the canopy, and I realized they were almost ready to begin, but I'd stopped walking ten feet from the car.

How long had I been standing still? No one else was watching me, only Nate seemed to have noticed, so it couldn't have been too long. "I guess we should get over there."

"It's alright. They're saving you a seat." His tone was light, but worry laced his tight smile. "Are you still doing okay?" he asked softly as his fingers brushed my cheek.

Emotion clogged my throat, and I nodded. Nate's eyes locked with mine, raising my pulse as his touch warmed my skin. A sense of calm washed through me, lifting some of the day's weight from my shoulders. No one had ever had such an effect on me.

Pulling his gaze away, Nate took a step back, and the small distance hit me like a bucket of ice water. "Good." He focused on the ground. "If you're okay, we should probably..." His words trailed off as he turned to walk toward the back of the gathering where Laurel stood watching his long strides carry him farther from me.

It hurt, but I couldn't blame him. He didn't know how close I was to fixing things, and I wouldn't hurt him by making another promise he didn't expect me to keep. He deserved proof that I could be the person he needs, and soon I'd have it. I just had to get through today first.

Shoving my relationship problems to the back of my mind, I took my place in the middle of the front row. Dad sat on one side of me with Mom hugging his arm and studying his tense face with worry, while Liv sat on my other side with Andre's arm wrapped around her. I was glad they were there to support each other and not at all jealous—at least that's what I told myself.

Meanwhile, like me, Ruth Grace sat alone. Wearing a long black dress and surprisingly little jewelry, her slight frame perched on the edge of the seat beside Mom. Her teary eyes bounced between the spray of flowers sitting atop her mother's casket, and where her newest husband stood with her daughter, separated from everyone else, but still close enough to hear what was happening.

Briar, thankfully, appeared more subdued than the last few times I'd seen her. At least she wasn't trying to draw attention to herself or antagonize anyone. She only stared at the ground with her expression locked somewhere between sadness and a scowl.

Music played quietly as Pastor Brown said one last brief goodbye, followed by another prayer. Dad nodded as the pastor spoke, his chest rising with a deep breath afterward, and I wished I could find comfort in the preacher's words the way Dad seemed to.

As we stood, a fresh wave of condolences headed our way. They'd already surrounded Mom and Dad. No thanks. I leaned toward Liv and whispered, "I'll go to the house and make sure everything's ready."

"Are you sure? I can go with you." She wiped her red eyes and tucked the tissue into her purse.

"That's okay. I don't mind missing some of this." I wrinkled my nose, and a huff of something close to a laugh left her mouth.

"I bet you don't." She glanced back at a group of older women headed toward us in a cloud of Chanel No. 5. "You better hurry."

"Thanks." I kissed her cheek and hurried to my car.

Thanks for reading!! Sorry it's been so long since my last post. Real life has been a lot lately, and it's pushed writing to the back burner. Hopefully, things are starting to settle, and I'll be able to get my posting back to a regular schedule.