He lifts his watery gaze to the doctor. “We’ve said goodbye.”
The man’s expression is polluted with sadness. “I’m very sorry.”
I have a sinking feeling he’ll be hearing a lot of that in the near future. Grady’s features remain stoic. He doesn’t respond. His grasp on my fingers borders on pain, but I don’t wince. I tuck my face into his neck and breathe in a bit of good.
A nurse is flipping off switches on the cluster of equipment responsible for keeping Camilla alive. The screens go blank one after another. All alerts fall silent. Any movement ceases. There’s just… nothing.
I don’t focus on the sluggish rise and fall of her chest. There’s no sense watching life leave her body. I keep my eyes trained to the ceiling. With a final whoosh of air, she’s gone.
And we cry over a life lost too soon.
25
Sutton
Happy something #47: Receiving a spontaneous hug, especially from Grady.
The funeral is a quiet affair.
There’s a small crowd gathering on the peak of Silo Ridge. Rumor has it that Camilla enjoyed hiking up this clifftop as a teenager. Seems as though this is the most appropriate place to set her free. The view is stunning. A direct shot of Spring Falls is in front of us. The lush trees of Wheaton Forest decorate the landscape on our left. Miles of wild flower meadows spread across the opposite side. I’m ashamed to admit this is my first visit. One glance at Grady and I know we’ll be making the climb again soon.
It’s nearly dusk, a warm burst of color is kissing the horizon. The dozen people in attendance are huddling near the rocky edge to watch the sunset. My parents are clutching each other tight. Their glittering eyes are focusing on the vibrant backdrop. Jace hovers nearby, his guarded expression blocking everyone out.
A floating sensation sweeps over me. There’s serenity whisking within the pain. I wipe another set of tears off my sensitive cheeks. My skin is practically rubbed raw at this point. I can’t get the swelling in my eyelids down. No amount of cucumber slices or mud masks alleviate the burn. Grady’s features wear similar evidence of grief. I doubt anyone else can see beyond his fierce exterior. The neglected scruff lining his jaw and grooves crossing his forehead are badges of honor. That’s all he’s willing to display. His face is a blank mask. The purest proof of her impact is soul-deep.
Camilla Bowen wasn’t a saint. The total opposite, in fact. Her choices were often dishonorable. She didn’t treat her son the way a mother should. I hardly had the chance to know her. None of that counts after the dust clears. Her death has changed us. She’s a reminder of how precious life is. As if we could so easily forget.
Grady shifts on restless feet beside me. His gaze is downcast, broad shoulders spanning wide even with the added pressure. The urn trembles in his hold. Camilla was cremated. She once mentioned that her body doesn’t belong in the ground. Her destiny is to spend eternity soaring in the clouds. Grady believes she was high on more than fresh air when this plan was created. He followed through with her wishes all the same.
The blue ceramic matches her eyes, at least that’s what my dad tells me. He knew a different side of her. His memories are full of smiles and joy. I wish Grady had more of those, along with the rest of Silo Springs. A quick glance across the cliff makes me queasy. Not many people in this town were interested or willing to pay their respects. Sympathy for the deceased has been lacking. We predicted this, and don’t necessarily blame them. It makes the few distant friends and acquaintances that are filtering in more meaningful.
Grady’s silence extends wider than usual. The load of these decisions for his mom has been an undertaking. The strain rarely leaves his muscles. There’s a constant war waging in his mind. But he doesn’t push me away. Not sure what would happen if he did. I never stray far from his side. We’ve been relying on one another to share the burden.
I drift a palm over his forearm. “Hey, Gray.”
His lips twitch. My heart leaps at the slight movement. “Hi, Sutt.”
“Is it time?”
He scans the skyline and nods. “I think so.”
A eulogy isn’t in the cards for this affair. My dad spoke earlier, prior to our moment of quiet reflection. Further words aren’t needed. Cicadas serenade us with a melancholy lullaby. Grady exhales a long stream of pent-up jitters. He loosens the lid and shuffles forward. With a slow tip, Camilla stretches her wings. Ashes scatter in dusty spirals and get carried by the wind. She sails in every direction—from meadows and forests and waterfalls. Her final resting place is the sky.
We step off the cliff once the final traces are welcomed up in a breeze. Grady loops an arm around my waist when I shiver. He’s so intuitive when it comes to me. I never have to worry about a thing when he’s within reach.
Our relationship has braved a bitter trial with his mother’s passing. We’re stronger because of it, but the road is littered with rocks. He’s been broody and withdrawn this past week. I recognize the steely armor he slips behind. He resembles the man I found after moving back home. Not that anyone can blame him. But he lets that bulletproof guard off-duty when it’s just the two of us. I crave that intimate connection after watching him stonewall everyone.
I brush against him with my hip, grinning with the flirty nudge. He buries his nose into my hair and drags in a deep breath. The rumble that follows has another shudder wracking my limbs.
“Missed you, Sutt.”
“Right here, Gray. I’m never far,” I murmur.
He kisses my temple. “You know what I mean.”
And I do. Those cherished romantic moments that aren’t tainted with darkness. “The night is young.”
Grady flicks a glance at my parents and Jace. The other guests trickled out after the ceremony. “I want us to be alone. I don’t give a shit if that’s insensitive or selfish.”
