Promise Me This (Wilder Family #3)

I’d always found cemeteries to be pretty fucking creepy. Some shrink somewhere would probably tell me it was leftover trauma from watching them lower a casket holding my mom’s body into the ground when I was just a kid. But if I was being honest with myself—and apparently this was the day for it—it wasn’t any easier when I’d watched them do it to my dad.

Age didn’t make any part of loss easier. It just made you that much more aware of what you were really losing.

I hadn’t been there since the burial because every time I thought about it, my blood went thick and sluggish, and there was always something else to be done. Some excellent reasons I shouldn’t go, or why it wasn’t necessary. My sisters went. Sheila went at least once a week. I didn’t know about Cameron because I didn’t really want to ask.

Uncertainty about the big things in life had a way of making you realize who you trusted the most. Whose voice you wanted to hear when you couldn’t make sense of what was going on in your own head.