Page 161 of A Dangerous Kind of Love

I look at her and then at Michael. I’ve got the only two people I love left in the world next to me.

“Yeah,” I say.

We’re met at the doors by an older man in a suit and tie. He offers his hand.

“You must be Katie Miller,” he says, shaking my hand. “I’m Gerald Hodge, the funeral director. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” I manage.

“Right this way.” He gestures down the hall. “We can talk in my office.”

Michael and Sarah follow behind me. I’ve only been here once before. A classmate died in a car accident in high school. It’s the only funeral I’ve ever been to.

My mom was an only child. Her parents were gone before I was even born. It’s always been just us, and now it’s just me.

There are two chairs in front of his desk and one by the door. Sarah takes that one. She gives me a small smile, and I squeeze her hand before letting go. Michael sits beside me and takes my hand, his thumb moving over mine.

“This is Michael,” I say as Gerald settles behind his desk. “And Sarah.”

“Very nice to meet you both,” he says with a nod.

Michael’s thumb keeps moving.

“Now, I understand your mother didn’t have a will. Have you given any thought to what you’d like for her service?”

Oh, God. I can’t do this.

“Katie.”

I look at Michael.

“You okay?”

I shake my head.

Gerald’s expression softens. “I know this is difficult. Is there any music she loved?”

I don’t answer. I don’t know how to do this.

“The Beatles,” Sarah says quietly from behind me. “She loved ‘Blackbird.’ It was her favorite.”

I nod, and Gerald writes it down. By the time we finish, the entire service has been planned. I don’t remember agreeing to any of it. I just nodded while Sarah and Michael spoke, and Gerald filled line after line in his notebook.

“And how will you be paying?”

My breath catches. Michael’s fingers tighten around mine.

“That’s something you and I can discuss,” he says, his tone even.

Gerald nods.

Michael turns to me, his hand lifting to my face and his thumb brushing just beneath my eye. “Why don’t you and Sarah wait outside?”

“Okay.”

I stand, a little unsteady, and turn. Sarah already has the door open, waiting for me. I take a step, stop, and turn back. I lean over the arm of the chair and wrap my arms around him.

“Thank you,” I whisper.