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Sean says nothing, but pulls me in for a hug.

He’s good at knowing when I need silence. I was hoping to contain myself today. I don’t know how I thought I could.

◆◆◆

I opted out of the eulogy at the last minute. It didn’t feel right. If I want to say something about my dad, I’ll do it on my own time. Blubbering in front of strangers isn’t on my bucket list.

We rented an event space for after the service. If people wanted to come around and celebrate my dad, they could. I bought some food at Costco, but I don’t have nearly enough for everyone. It was a much bigger turnout than I thought it would be. Posting about it online really got the message around.

“I’m going to go run out and get some more sandwiches,” I tell Sean as he hovers near me.

He hasn’t let me out of his sight.

“I’ll go with you.” He tries to grab the keys from me.

“No, please. I want to do it.”

He doesn’t argue. He walks me to the door and kisses the side of my head.

“Drive safely, please.”

I can see the desperation on his face—he wants to come, but I don’t want a babysitter.

I could use a minute alone after such a difficult day. It’s been almost a week that he’s been gone, but today was still as hard as the rest.

I throw Maggie a look, making sure she watches over everything. She booked a flight as soon as she heard the news. She’s that good of a friend. Steven made it too.

The whole parking lot is filled with cars. I forget where we parked. I don’t know how well I’ll be able to drive Sean’s truck, but I’ll take it slow. I find my way to it after a minute and reach my arm out to open the door.

A weary voice calls my name, “Billie?”

I turn around quickly, too stunned to speak.

Eloise.

“Umm.” I can’t fight out any words.

She looks so old; her hair is greying in strange places. She’s gotten bad botox done, and her eyes too lifted. She should’ve aged naturally.

She smiles lightly at me, but I can’t muster one myself.

A pain squeezes at my heart. I know why she’s here. Another reminder that I have no parents left.

“I heard about Wesley. I needed to come,” she chokes out, her makeup smeared. Her foundation is too dark, the streaks of her concealer apparent from the tears that have fallen.

“Good for you,” I reply sharply.

What does she want? A brownie point? I jump into the truck and slam the door shut, placing my hands on the wheel.

I don’t want to see her. Especially now. I’ve lost too much because of her.

Maybe I should be giving her more grace—forgive her even. But, forgiveness doesn’t always mean having to confront someone or talk to them about it. It can be for yourself, so you can move on.

Her face genuinely looks solemn—a look that I didn't know she had. I don’t need an apology from her if that’s what she came to do. Though, I’m sure if that were the case, it was only to make herself feel better. I don’t need anything from her—there isn’t a point to her being here.

I start the truck and begin to pull out of the tight spot.

As I drive away, I can see her staring after me in the rearview mirror.