"Course I came.You think I'd let you handle this alone?"
Something flickers across her face, too quick for me to interpret."Ethan always said funeral planning was women's work.That men shouldn't have to deal with the emotional details."
The casual way she mentions how that bastard dismissed her grief makes my hands clench."Ethan's a fucking idiot."
A ghost of a smile touches her lips."Yeah.He really is."
She grabs her purse and keys, and I notice her left hand is bare.No engagement ring.The absence of it makes something possessive and satisfied curl in my chest.
"Tempest is with me," I tell her as we walk toward the elevator."Hope that's okay."
"Of course.I...thank you.For this.For everything."
Her voice breaks slightly on the last word, and I have to resist the urge to pull her into my arms right there in the hallway.
Tempest is waiting by the bikes when we get outside, and he tips his head in a polite nod when I introduce him.
"Ma'am," he says simply."Sorry for your loss."
"Thank you."Evangeline's voice is steady, but I can see her struggling to hold it together.
"You riding with me?"I ask, offering her the spare helmet.
She nods, and when she settles behind me on the bike, her arms wrapping around my waist, every nerve ending in my body lights up.She's pressed against my back, warm and soft and trusting, and it takes everything I have to focus on the road instead of how right she feels there.
The funeral home is filled with muted colors and soft music.Calla would’ve hated it and Marcus would have wanted whatever his wife wanted.That was Marcus to a T.Whatever made his wife, children and sister happy, was all he wanted.
The director is a thin man with practiced sympathy and manicured hands.He walks us through options like he's selling cars instead of discussing the final arrangements for my sister.
"Now, for the service itself," he's saying, "we have several package options?—"
"Just tell us what Calla would have wanted," I interrupt."Simple.Nothing fancy."
Evangeline nods beside me."She always said funerals should be about celebrating the person's life, not showing off for the neighbors."
"Of course.We can arrange a simple memorial service.Perhaps here in our chapel, or..."
"The clubhouse," I say."She'd want to be surrounded by family."
The director's face goes carefully blank."I see.That's...unconventional."
"My sister was unconventional."
"Hades is right," Evangeline says quietly."Calla would want people to tell stories and laugh about the good times.She'd hate the idea of everyone sitting in uncomfortable chairs pretending to be solemn."
Her voice wavers on the last word, and I watch her fight to keep the tears at bay.She’s a strong, stubborn woman trying to handle everything on her own.
"Could you give us a minute?"I ask the director.
"Of course.I'll be right outside if you need anything."
When we're alone, Evangeline's composure finally cracks.Her shoulders shake, and she presses a hand to her mouth like she can physically hold back the grief.
"Hey."I turn toward her, and she looks up at me with eyes full of pain."It's okay to break down.It's okay to be angry and sad and fucking furious that this happened."
"I should have been there," she whispers."I should have been a better sister-in-law, should have made more time for them.Now I'll never get the chance to..."
The words dissolve into sobs, and I can't stand it anymore.Can't watch her tear herself apart with guilt that isn't hers to carry.
