Faetality |✓|

Chapter Thirteen, Part Three - Dead to Me

Steeling myself for the unthinkable task, I strode the rest of the distance forward and grabbed ahold of one silver handle. I forced it upward, and the first half of the coffin’s lid came away, exposing the upper torso of my late ex-boyfriend.

            The undertaker had dressed him in a suit and carefully folded his arms over the top of his stomach. In between his pale, greyish fingers were the small black beads of a rosary with a cross. Beneath the makeup, you still see the grayness of death in his face. His eyes were closed, and his and his dark blonde hair was combed to the side in a perfect part. His lips, once so full and perfect were now dry and chapped. And as much as I wanted to lie and say that he looked so serene in death, in my heart I knew that wasn’t true. Perhaps it was the stark, jagged streaks of black that spread from his lips and faded upwards into his cheeks that suggested such a cold notion. But whatever the reason, Dean didn’t look peaceful at all. In fact, his corpse appeared as haunted as me.

            “I hate that this happened to you,” I said softly, looking down at him with less fear and more devotion than I’d ever shone him. “And you’ll never know how sorry I am that it did. But I will find the person who did this to you. And I swear to you, Dean – I will make them pay.”

            Swallowing hard, I allowed myself one last final glance before looking away and closing the coffin. I took a slow, wavering breath and briefly shut my eyes before bringing two fingers up to my lips and then placing them against the coffin. The wood was cold beneath my touch.

            “Good night,” I whispered.

            “Very touching,” said a voice behind me, and at its familiarity I felt my heart skyrocket into my throat. “That was so moving, Tamsyn, really.”

            “Erica,” I said, straightening and gathering my bearings before turning to face her. “What are you doing here? Did you follow me?”

            But even as I spoke the words, I looked at her new by the slim dress, the black hose, the heels, and the tight bun that she was here for the funeral.

            “Dean’s father is a colleague at the firm,” Erica replied, offering me a wide-eyed look. “And unfortunately Thom’s stuck in court all day so I got his blessing to attend the service in his place. And plus, I saw you so I just had to follow. I wanted to check up on you. Your Dad told me about Dean, how he was your boyfriend –”

            “Talk about a lawyer with a conscience. My dad’s gone a little soft. And clearly he talks too much.”

            “Well, nevertheless,” Erica brightly continued. “Here I am… paying my last respects…”

            “Bullshit. You didn’t even know Dean,” was my automatic, rude reply. “Obviously ‘paying your last respects’ is just a really overused, cheap ploy to get closer to my dad and you know it.”

            It was out. I had said it, and there was no taking it back.