My dad makes small talk with the two men standing beside us, while I try and calm the inner turmoil raging within me about seeing Carter. I overhear one of the men tell my father he’s Mr. Shepard’s brother. I’m not usually judgemental, but I’m immediately sceptical of him. After all, they’re related. The other man says he’s one of Mr. Shepard’s employees. It makes me wonder if any of the people here were actually his friends. People like him don’t have friends I guess. Just enemies.
My stomach’s doing flip-flops when the funeral car arrives. I presume Carter and his mother are in the black car that pulls up behind it. It was the one that I saw parked in their driveway before we left. My hands are trembling so I wrap them around my middle. The driver gets out of the car and makes his way towards the back door. I try not to look when he opens it, but my damn eyes aren’t doing what they’re told.
Carter gets out of the car first. I swear I stop breathing as soon as I see him. He’s dressed in a black suit. He looks so different. So grown up. So damn hot. For some reason it makes my heart ache. I’ve never seen him in anything other than casual attire. He is absolutely breathtaking. No other words could describe how good he looks. Seventeen year old Carter was a sight, but an adult Carter … no words.
He reaches for his mother’s hand and helps her from the vehicle. My heart hurts for her when I see how broken she looks. Poor thing. I feel bad that I haven’t given her my condolences yet, but there was no way I was going over to her house knowing Carter was there.
Carter leads her over towards the chapel. When she gets a glimpse of the coffin in the back of the hearse, a fresh load of tears fall from her red, puffy eyes. I feel my own eyes well just watching her. She looks so broken. Carter wraps her in his arms and holds her tight. Memories of what it felt like when he held me like that flood my mind. I try to push those thoughts away. That’s the past and exactly where it needs to stay. I have Mark now.
When he first left all those years ago, I was heartbroken. I cried for weeks. Part of me understood why he felt he had to go. I didn’t like it, but I understood. As the months and years passed though, and I got no word from him, none whatsoever, that hurt turned to anger. I know the night I gave him my virginity we’d agreed it would only be one night, but that night, I not only gave him my virtue, I gave him my heart. When he left the very next day without so much as a goodbye, it crushed me. I’m not sure if I can forgive him for that.
We may not have been in a relationship, but first and foremost, he was my friend. Friend’s don’t treat each other like that. He made me, and what we shared in our short time together seem inconsequential. Did I mean so little to him? I guess so.
After shaking Carter’s hand, my dad wraps Mrs. Shepard in his arms. She cries into his chest. He’s lost his spouse as well, so if anyone knows what she’s going through right now it’s him. As I watch them together, I can feel Carter’s eyes boring into me. I don’t dare look. Thankfully, I’m wearing my large, dark sunglasses so he can’t see my eyes.
When my father lets go of Mrs. Shepard, I wrap my arms around her. “I’m sorry for your loss, Elizabeth,” I say.
“Thank you, sweetie,” she sniffles as she returns the hug. Letting go, I step back so she can move on to the next guest. A shadow falls over me. Looking up, I find Carter standing in front of me. The cheeky fucking bastard has his arms outstretched, waiting for his hug. I don’t think so buddy. I see a smirk cross his face when my brow furrows. Before I get a chance to say anything he pulls me into his arms. Fucker. He knows I’m not going to make a scene at a funeral.
God he smells amazing.
I know I should push him away, but for some reason I can’t. My arms seem to have a mind of their own when they slide around his waist. He exhales, pulling me in tight. “Christ I’ve missed you,” he whispers so only I can hear. Tears sting my eyes. I’ve missed him too, but it’s too late for that. I waited for years for him to return, and when he didn’t I moved on.
When reality hits, I have no choice but to pull away. All these feelings that I’m having towards him are consuming me with guilt. Making me feel like I’m doing wrong by Mark. As much as I hate to say this, once the funeral is over, I hope Carter goes back to wherever he came from. Having him around again is too hard. I have a new life now. A life that doesn’t include him.
••••
For the rest of the service I don’t leave my father’s side. The whole time I feel Carter’s eyes on me. Only once do I give in to the temptation to look his way. Of course I find him staring straight at me. The sad look on his face as his eyes bore into mine makes my chest ache for some reason. I quickly divert my eyes back to the front of the room.
After we left the Chapel, Mrs. Shepard invited us to her house for the wake. I had no intentions of going back, but the pleading look in her eyes when she asked had me saying yes. Damn it. Carter better stay the hell away.
“I’m not going to stay long,” I tell my father when we pull into our driveway. I can’t handle these feelings Carter evokes in me when he’s around. Staying away from him is the only way.
“Sure, Pumpkin. I’m sure Elizabeth and Carter will appreciate you making an appearance.”
Of course when we enter the house the first person I see is him. His eyes immediately find mine. The corners of his lips turn up slightly, making his gorgeous face even more handsome. He’s standing in the corner of the main room looking completely out of place. Why I feel bad for him, I can’t say. I suppose it would suck to feel uncomfortable in your own home, I guess. I find myself wanting to go over and talk to him, but I don’t. Instead I head towards the kitchen to see if there’s anything I can do to help. At least in here I’ll be away from his watchful gaze.
Just my luck they have caterers hosting the wake, so when I’m told there’s nothing I can do to help I head back into the main room, deflated. My heart sinks when I find my dad standing with Carter. There’s no way I’m going over there to join them. Thankfully, they’re lost in conversation and don’t notice I’ve re-entered the room. I don’t know anyone else here, so I slip outside and take a seat on the front step. I need the fresh air. I need the space. I need to be as far away from Carter as I can get.
Ten minutes later, I hear the front door open behind me. Turning my head, I find him standing there looking all smug and delicious. Great. Everything in me wants to get up and walk away, but that’s not the adult thing to do. As angry as I am at him, we’re not teenagers anymore.
“I was wondering where you got to,” he says coming to sit beside me. “Here, I brought you something to drink.” He holds up a glass of wine. I have a good mind to tell him to jam it up his smug arse, but the truth is, I need it.
“Thank you,” I reply reaching for it, but he pulls back his hand. I narrow my eyes at him. Ugh! “I see some things haven’t changed. You’re still an arsehole.” He laughs at my comment like it’s funny. It wasn’t meant to be funny.
“I’m just messing with you,” he says passing it to me for real this time. He’s already removed his tie and suit jacket. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows, revealing a full sleeve tattoo on his arm. He didn’t have that last time I saw him. It only serves to make him look even more like a bad boy. Three words come to mind—Sexy. As. Hell. I hate that his presence still has a huge effect on me.
I find myself wondering what his life’s been like since he left. A long time has passed since we were last together. Going by his past, he’s probably still a man whore. I hate it that that thought upsets me. “So how have you been?” he asks taking a pull of the beer in his hand.
He must’ve been wondering the same thing as me. I shrug. Is it wrong that my eyes are focused on his lips wrapped around the head of the bottle? I remember all too well what those lips felt like. Being near him again seems so surreal.