Chapter 8
eight
. . .
Felix
I’m blasted with hot air as I walk into the funeral home. It hits me square in the face and dries out my throat instantly.
Inside, it looks…the same as when I was here for my mother and then again for Sam.
The walls are papered with blue and yellow flowers.
The floor is carpeted in grey, the same shade as storm clouds.
Soft piano music plays from speakers hidden in the walls while bouquets grace every corner and available table space, filling the room with a sickeningly sweet scent.
Eloise approaches me near the front desk. I recognize her immediately with the shock of white hair and large glasses.
“Hello, how can I help…do I know you?”
“Hi, Eloise. I was here for my mother’s service and to pick up my brother’s ashes, but today I’m here for Eden Hale.
She is my fiancée, and her parents were just killed in that horrific car crash last Friday.
She is beside herself right now and asked me to make the arrangements.
She’ll call with any changes afterward.”
She flips through the appointment book. “Yes, I remember you now. And I’m so sorry to hear that. We usually require a family member to make these sorts of arrangements.”
I give her my most sincere look.
“I understand. She’s out in the car if you want to confirm with her, yourself. She just can’t bear to come in here.”
“No, that’s okay. Let’s get started, shall we?”
I follow Eloise into the office, and she closes the door. This decision seems heavier than with my mother, not because of Eden’s parents, but because of Eden. Somehow her grief is wrapped around mine.
Folders are spread across the desk. Casket brochures. Urns. Prayer cards. Music selections.
I should get information and leave, but I don’t. Eden can barely walk without crying right now. She looked like she was about to stop breathing entirely when we pulled into the parking lot. I can’t make her flip through catalogs.
“Do you know how many people are expected to attend the service?”
I don’t. I remember the small room where my mother’s funeral was held. It was designed to hold 30 people. There were only five of us, but it was the smallest room available.
“We’ll need the largest room,” I say, guessing that by the way Eden talks about her parents, they have many friends and family who will want to come.
“Okay, have they requested burial or cremation?”
“Cremation,” I say without hesitation.
Eden may not remember, but I saw the side of her father’s face, and there is no way they will make him look normal again.
The questions keep coming. I circle each item that I pick from the brochures to show Eden.
“What kind of flowers did they like?”
Yellow flashes through my head immediately. The sunflower border in Eden’s kitchen. Photos on the fridge. Tiny painted flowerpots on the windowsill.
“Sunflowers,” I answer.
The funeral director smiles gently.
“Those are beautiful for celebration arrangements. Not the easiest to get this time of year, but I know a flower shop that grows year-round. I’ll see if they have some available. What about music?”
“Fleetwood Mac. Creedence Clearwater Revival. Queen. Landslide and Dreams are a couple of their favorites,” I say quietly.
Eloise nods.
By the time I finally stand, nearly forty minutes have passed.
The woman hands me a folder with all the information.
“You’re a very good young man for helping the family like this.”
The compliment feels right. I am helping. Aren’t I? Of course I am. That’s all I’ve wanted from the beginning.
“Thank you, I hope so.”
Outside, snow hits my face sharply as I walk toward the car. Eden immediately looks guilty the second she sees me.
“God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it was going to take that long. I shouldn’t have made you go in alone.”
The need to be here for her is so strong that it pisses me off when she keeps apologizing when I help her.
“I told you that I want to and stop apologizing. I mean it,” I tell her firmly. Far firmer than necessary.
I know exactly what grief does to people when it guts them from the inside out. I toss the folder into the backseat. I don’t tell her the arrangements are made. I don’t want her to feel obligated to look over what I chose.
“We’re not going home yet,” I say instead, starting the car.
She slowly looks over. “What?”
“You need food.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Tough. You need to eat, and so do I.”
A tiny laugh slips out of her, and the sound is like morphine straight to the bloodstream. My body warms and relaxes except for my heart. It insists on racing at full speed.
“There’s the bossiness again.”
“If you like, you can call me Boss Felix.”
Eden chuckles, her cheeks reddening as she bites her lower lip. It is sexy as hell. I crave that look. I crave all her looks, but especially that one.
Twenty minutes later, I hand her a burger, fries, and a chocolate milkshake from the drive-thru window, before parking at Walmart to people-watch. Normal people probably don’t eat ice cream in minus twenty weather, but Eden takes a huge sip through the straw like it’s coffee.
“Ow, brain freeze.”
Fuck she is pretty.
“Thank you,” Eden says suddenly.
I glance over, chewing a mouthful of the triple-decker burger I can hardly get in my mouth.
“For what?” The words come out mumbled.
“For the food.” Her voice turns softer. “For today. For being with me.”
Something warm and truly addictive spreads through my chest. The praise, the soft and innocent look in Eden’s eyes that says I’m now her whole world, feeds a craving in me. A part of me that I didn’t even know existed until her.
“Of course,” I say quietly. “I’ll always be here for you. Being with you…makes everything a little easier. Whatever normal is, I feel it when I’m with you.”
She blushes and looks away, but there is a hint of a smile ghosting her lips. I understand something terrifying all at once. At some point, between her crying against my chest last night and milkshakes today, taking care of Eden feels less like a choice and more like my purpose.
I know now why I was there when she needed me the most. I was meant to find her and keep her safe.
Eden is mine.
My pretty thing.
And I’ll protect her at all costs.