⁂—A GRAVE MEETING.

BREE SMOOTHED THE wrinkles in her white skirt. Sweeping her hair behind her ears, she studied herself one last time.

It was abnormal to catch Bree in something like this, but today was important. Today was special.

From the corner of her eye, she saw her phone screen light up. Snagging it, she read the text.

SALT💜
hey, all ready to go?

PEPPER🌹
yes, are you here?

SALT💜
already outside

Shutting her phone, Bree grabbed her necessities and headed downstairs as fast as she could. Her palms grew sweaty and she wiped them against her. Bree wasn't usually nervous in even the most dire situations, but today was so meaningful for Conner—Bree thought she was nervous for him.

But no, she wasn't. She was actually, genuinely nervous. Conner did this every year. This was the first time he'd bring her along for the ride. She knew it wasn't that big of a deal, and she wasn't ridiculously worked up, although it felt like she was being let in on the most personal thing she'd ever been a part of.

Opening the door, she saw her boyfriend on the other side. His floppy hair was gelled back, and he sported a white dress shirt and grey jeans—very similar to her own attire. He smiled a slightly strained smile. "You look great," He said. "I like the skirt."

Bree grinned, stepping out onto the porch and closing the door behind her. "Thanks—it was the only white thing I had, so sorry about the top." She gestured to the cuffed red tee tucked into the skirt. "I tried to stay away from the blacks this time."

Conner chuckled, placing a chaste kiss on her cheek. "It's perfect, really." He almost combed a hand through his hair, but stopped when realizing he'd styled it. "You wanna head out?" His thumb jerked back to the Jeep behind him—his mom's car.

Bree noticed how his smile didn't meet his eyes. It was like half his face was doing something while the other half was shut off. He was grieving. Bree could tell. Even after all these years, today still put a damper on his mood.

"You don't have to take me, you know," Bree said, ignoring his question. "You can go alone. Or with your mom, or whomever."

Conner's eyes finally met his mouth. Both of them were curled with refusal. "No, no—I want you to come. I mean, it's our first full year together and I've kinda had this in mind for a long time—also, I'm almost eighteen and my mom still doesn't trust me with the car so she said I could only take it if you're in it." His lips quirked. "It's not a super super big deal, really."

Bree knew that. But it still felt like she was meeting a part of the family.

"And I know this sounds weird, or whatever, but I guess I really want him to. . . meet you, I guess? Does that make sense?" Conner rambled on.

Bree laughed. Sometimes her boyfriend was most amusing when he was trying not to be. "It totally makes sense," She smiled, taking him by the arm. "Let's go, then."

Conner opened the car door for her. Fishing the keys out of his pocket, he slipped into the driver's seat. "Phew," He said, unsure where to place his hands for a moment. "I'm still not used to this." He put the key in the ignition and the car revved to life.

Bree smiled. "Me neither." She snuggled into her passenger seat.

"Why, because you drive me everywhere?" He cocked a brow.

"No, I'm talking about the skirt."

Conner playfully rolled his eyes. "Sure, let's go with that." There were very few things Conner loved more than Bree's attitude. Maybe the only thing that beat it was her smile. "I love you, you know that?"

"Hmm?" Bree turned her gaze away from the car window, meeting Conner's ear-to-ear grin.
It was a refreshing sight considering his sullen face a couple seconds ago.

Conner chuckled to himself. "You're not zoning out on me now, are you?"

"Not really," She corrected. "Just. . . thinking."

"About what?" Conner asked, slipping his hand into hers as he drove.

"Both hands on the wheel, Conner," Bree reminded.

"No. Answer my question."

"Just about stuff, I guess," was what she chose to respond with. She tightened her lips into a line.

Conner squeezed her hand. "Come on, can you give me some more detail? Please?"

"This might sound kind of dumb—but do you think he would've liked me?" Bree asked, trying to keep her question as placid as possible.

Conner had to refrain from looking at her as he spun the wheel for a right turn. "Are you kidding? He would've loved you!" He shot her a cheesy smile once they were headed straight again.

Bree faced the window to simmer her blush. "Alright, alright," She mumbled, fighting a massive grin. She ran her thumb across Conner's hand. "Is Alex coming later?"

"No," Conner sighed, turning the wheel again. "She has kingdom stuff, but she told me she really wanted to come."

Bree nodded, biting her lip. "Oh, okay." She finally moved her eyes away from the window and back to Conner, who looked significantly less distressed now.

The rest of the ride was continued in silence. The comfortable kind, of course. Conner rapped his fingertips on the steering wheel to keep himself occupied.

Eventually, their destination loomed ahead of them, the imposing steel archway stretching above their heads as they passed into it. The atmosphere turned thick and heavy almost immediately. Conner and Bree were the type of people who absorbed the energy around them, so as Conner whirred the car to a park a sadness settled around them like a blanket of dust.

Neither of them moved. Now that they were here, everything bore its true weight. Conner unlocked the car doors with baited breath.

Bree wished she had her beanie to pull lower down her forehead. "You go first," She said finally.

Like he had been waiting for it, Conner's face flooded with colour again. "Yeah, alright," He breathed. "I'll just be a minute."

Bree took his shaking hand and squeezed it tightly. "Take all the time you need." She leaned over and gently kissed his forehead. "Come get me when you're ready."

"Okay," Conner flushed, fumbling with the car door and giving Bree a sheepish smile. He clumsily shut the car door and stuck his hands in his pockets.

It was a beautiful day outside. Conner's shoes still squelched in the grass—it had rained the night before and everything was still a little dewy. He made his way past the rows of headstones and shrines until he found the one he was looking for.

HERE LIES
JONATHAN BAILEY
LOVING HUSBAND, LOVING FATHER, LOVING FRIEND

Chills raced up Conner's spine as he read the words. "Hey, Dad," He started weakly.

A cluster of flowers had already been placed at the bottom of the slab. His dad had been loved by many—and the bouquet in the corner showed that Mom and Bob were no exception.

Conner shuffled awkwardly for a minute. He never quite knew what to say in moments like these. As silly as it sounded, conversations with his dead father never sounded one-sided to him. Did people even talk to graves when they visited them?

Feeling vulnerable, he scanned the graveyard in front of him. Among the headstones, he saw an elderly woman with her back facing towards him weeping to the grave in front of her. She was talking. Conner couldn't make out what she was saying between her sniffles, but he instantly knew it was her husband she was mourning for.

Conner watched the lady for a moment. What would it be like to lose somebody like that? Someone you loved like that? Would it kill you, too? Love seemed like it could do that sort of thing to you if you didn't look at it the right way. It was an inevitable thing, really—Conner wondered if it would be so hard if you had no idea it was coming. It seemed like the worst kind of heartbreak in the world.

"Um, how are you?" Conner cringed at his blatant sentence. He imagined his father giving him an enthusiastic thumbs-up as compensation. "I'm, uh, I'm good. So is mom, and Alex, and everyone." He swallowed unsurely. What else was there to say? His dad already knew every single thought that had raced in Conner's head—alive or not.

His eyes lit when he remembered something worth sharing. "Oh! I have a girlfriend, by the way. She's actually here with me, but she's waiting in the car." He looked back to the Jeep in the parking lot. "I should probably go get her," He muttered to nobody in particular.

Bree had got Conner thinking, and just one step into his walk to the car, he turned back around. "Okay wait, Alex thinks this was a dicey decision but I'm already saving for a ring—don't tell anybody, though."

His dad was probably winking right now, which was always a good sign. Conner squelched off to the car, fingers drumming in his pockets. He knew somebody would give him approval.

"Hey," Conner beamed as he opened Bree's door. She had been listening to music with her eyes closed and Conner had to poke her to get her attention.

Once she felt the tap on her shoulder, Bree pulled an earbud from her ear and turned to look at the culprit. "Hi," She smiled, tucking her earbuds back into her pocket. "All done?"

Conner nodded. Offering a hand, he helped Bree out of the car. "Your turn," He grinned. The tumultuous part was over—it was kind of relieving to have a third party accompanying him to a rather somber occasion.

They walked hand-in-hand to John's burial. Bree put her head on Conner's shoulder, letting her gaze meander off into the rows and rows of restful spirits underneath her.

"What are you staring at?" Conner asked quietly, like there were other people listening. And in a way, there were.

Bree smiled to herself. "I just like cemeteries," She shrugged. "Dead people have already lived their lives and are just watching over other people living theirs."

Conner shook out a laugh. "You are so weird," He teased, squeezing Bree's hand.

"Takes one to know one," She retorted.

Their banter was cut short when the gravestone came into view. Bree's hand grew tighter against Conner's and she lifted her head off his shoulder. There was a lapse of silence. "So this is it," She remarked.

"Yeah," Conner sighed. "This is it." He awkwardly cleared his throat. "Uh, Dad, this is Bree."

Bree raised her eyebrows for a second. Was Conner losing his mind or did he do this often? Nevertheless, she smiled at the soul-slab of stone and politely stepped forwards. "Nice to meet you," She said, surprised by how strange yet comfortable it felt to be talking to the grave of your boyfriend's dead dad.

Clouds wafted past the sun. For a moment, the cemetery went dark. Conner watched the vibrant flowers wash with grey before the sky opened up again.

Bree gently let go of his hand, pushing back a lock of hair. "What was he like?" Bree asked rather unexpectedly. "I mean, I know what he was like, but what was he like to you?"

Conner wrapped his arms around Bree's middle from behind, resting his chin on her head. "I don't know, he was my dad. He was really tall, and funny, and smart. . . He was kind of my hero," He admitted.

Bree nodded, letting his words resonate in her head. She chewed her bottom lip as she stared at John's grave. This was somewhat unfamiliar territory for her. She'd never quite experienced a loss so deep that you could still feel them around even when they weren't there. It was like floating in a pool with your eyes closed, holding hands with somebody else you couldn't see.

"I wish I met him," Bree thought aloud.

"Me too," Conner sighed. "You guys would've gotten along great." He imagined a world where Dad would crack macabre jokes and where Bree would bring him stacks upon stacks of books for him to read. They'd meet up for coffee and talk about him behind his back and pull killer April Fools pranks until the Bailey household exploded.

Conner liked the idea very much.

"It's alright, though," He continued bittersweetly. "I've got new heroes now."

Bree laughed against his chest. "Like who?" She prodded, fiddling with the bracelets around her wrist.

Conner shrugged, kissing the top of her head. "Like you."

A fragrant breeze pushed past the gravesite, filling the air with the smell of flowers.

Bree blushed in spite of herself. "Oh, shut up," She bumbled, lightly elbowing Conner's ribs.

"No, it's true!" Conner grunted. "Remember that time last summer when Alex went—"

"Shh!" She hissed playfully. "That wasn't even me!"

Conner let go of Bree's waist, feigning shock. "What do you mean 'that wasn't me!' You literally killed—"

Bree was quick to cut him off again. "You're making me sound like a mass murderer in front of your dad, you dork," She snorted, turning around to face him.

Conner had a big goofy smile on his face and his eyes were filled with words. "Thanks!"

Bree reached to pull him into a hug. "Your dad is nice," She hummed. "He must miss you."

Conner tensed up, a little confused. "Since when could you communicate with the dead?" He asked, his eyebrows arched high up in the sky as he hugged Bree closer.

"Oh, I haven't told you that story yet?"

—⁂—

____________________
♡ NOTE...
so broskis this one is a hot
mess but how'd we like it? sorry
it took so long, i'm updating
minimum once a week now (for all
my books) so updates may come
quicker!!
also please feel free to check out
my other story-based books, there's
still a lotta cute stuff in them
and i've got a bunch!
thanks for reading!