The Wrong Path

Chapter Eighteen





The next morning she stood with her parents outside of the chapel at Mrs. Scarlett’s funeral. She couldn’t remember ever going to a funeral before, but it wasn’t quite as depressing as she had imagined. As they waited for the ceremony to start people stood clustered together, talking and laughing. Annabelle looked around for Ebony or Will’s other friends, but stopped when she realized Will wouldn’t have invited them. He wouldn’t want them there. He would want to do this alone. But, as she scanned the crowd of familiar faces for Will, she reminded herself he wasn’t alone. He had her.

They had spent the night in the barn, curled up together on the old, dusty couch. Annabelle had been reluctant to leave his arms even to bid him goodbye that morning, especially at the somber, heavy look in his eyes. But Will had given her a light kiss goodbye and they had driven off, Annabelle to return her father’s car after being out all night.

Her parents had been drinking coffee in the living room when she came home to face their wrath. To her surprise, her father had stood and offered her his mug of coffee, then asked if she had scratched the car. When she had said no, he had told her she would be hand washing it as soon as things settled down.

And she had hugged him as tightly as she could, overcome with love for her understanding, forgiving parents.

She finally spotted Will standing to his father’s left by the chapel’s front doors, Trevor on Mr. Scarlett’s right. They were all wearing black suits, accepting condolences from family and friends. Trevor and Mr. Scarlett both appeared to be on the verge of tears, ready to break down at any moment, but Will merely stood by passively, a blank, expressionless look on his face.

It was an expression Annabelle was all-too familiar with. She longed to throw her arms around him and comfort him.

But she couldn’t. Even if Trevor knew about her and Will, she couldn’t do that to him. Not at his mother’s funeral. It would be impossibly cruel. She could never forgive herself for something like that.

So instead she stood between her parents, silently sending her strength and support to Will.

“Oh, there’s Patrick,” Annabelle heard her mom say, surprising her. “Let’s go see how he is.”

Annabelle felt her heart fall into her stomach as she dutifully followed behind her parents to go talk to Mr. Scarlett. She wanted to hide behind her mother’s skirt like a little girl as they approached, her mother hugging Mr. Scarlett and her father shaking his hand. She hesitantly lifted her eyes to Trevor, unsure about what type of greeting she would receive.

To her vast relief and overwhelming appreciation, Trevor smiled tiredly at her, nodding. She returned the greeting, then looked over at Will. He stared emptily at their parents, watching their exchange through emotionless, unfeeling eyes.

As a new group of people joined them, Annabelle seized the opportunity and slid quickly over to Will’s side. Under the cover of hugs and greetings between the others, she reached out and squeezed his hand.

Will stiffened in surprise, but then, to her vast relief, he relaxed slightly and squeezed back.

Her parents excused themselves from the group, and reluctantly, Annabelle tore herself from Will’s familiar side to head into the church. As people filtered in, filling up the expanse of pews, Annabelle felt an overwhelming sense of saddened pleasure at the number of people who had been touched by Mrs. Scarlett. She really had been an incredible woman.

The procession started with the Scarlett family—Mrs. Scarlett’s brother, sisters, nieces, and nephews. Then came Mr. Scarlett, followed slowly by Will and Trevor, who led in the casket. Trevor’s face was strained, as if he were trying desperately not to cry, but Will’s face was calm and dispassionate.

Annabelle watched as the group of six men carried the casket down the aisle and set it down in front of the altar. They silently turned away, taking their seats in the front row.

The pastor gave a wonderful sermon about Mrs. Scarlett’s life and assured them that she had gone to a better place. Several people got up to speak about Mrs. Scarlett, including Trevor, who became so choked up he almost couldn’t continue. Annabelle’s heart ached for him as he forced himself to go on, half the church crying with him. By the end of his speech, Mr. Scarlett had his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking violently. Will just continued to stare at the ground, as if he were in another world.

When the ceremony was over, Annabelle’s parents pulled her to leave. She resisted, searching for Will through the crowded room. At the very least, she wanted to catch his eye before she left.

She finally spotted him near the front, where the family was escorting the casket out of the church—to be buried, she guessed. She hesitated, knowing she shouldn’t follow, and yet, even as she watched, Claire, Claudia, Zach, and some others followed through the doorway.

She turned to her parents. “I have to go,” she told them, half-desperately, half-apologetically. Her mother’s tender eyes were all the approval she needed before she broke through the upward stream of people, chasing after the small cluster of mourners headed to the burial plot.

She forced herself to slow down to avoid drawing attention to herself as she approached. The group had stopped walking in front of a plot facing a stream, a large tree hanging above it. Annabelle smiled slightly at the sight of the beautiful area, sure that Mrs. Scarlett would be pleased to be laid to rest in such a nice place.

Will stood at the front, to the left of his father. She slowly stepped around the crowd, nodding at Claire when the blond girl caught her eye. Claire’s eyes flickered with confusion, and then settled on another emotion, one Annabelle could barely recognize. It was almost…

Almost akin to admiration.

Will didn’t acknowledge her as she joined his side, his eyes fastened on the coffin in front of them. She held her hands clasped together in front of her to keep from reaching out to him, trying to feed him strength just with her presence. It was all she could do for him—to be at his side when he needed someone.

The pastor said a few words, and then it was over. Mr. Scarlett and Trevor both cried heavy, heartbroken tears, but Will, as dispassionate as ever, merely stood there staring emptily at the grave.

Slowly, knowing it was the worst possible time, Annabelle reached out and took his hand.

Almost as though a spell had been broken, his eyes fell closed and his chest exhaled. Then he turned and looked at her with dark, pained eyes.

“Let’s go,” she said softly.

He cast one last look at the grave before nodding. She led the way, holding his hand, acutely aware of the stares following them. She didn’t turn back. This wasn’t about her, and it wasn’t about them. It was about Will. She wished she could have talked to Trevor before so publicly walking off with his brother, but he would be okay. He had a group of people around him to support him. Will was the one who needed someone to be there for him.

Will didn’t release her hand until he had unlocked the passenger door to his car and she was climbing in. She reached across his seat to open his door for him, watching as he climbed into the driver’s seat. He stuck the key in the ignition and they were off, leaving the church and the cemetery behind.

He didn’t appear to have a destination as he drove, tugging at his tie to loosen it around his neck and undoing the top few buttons. He slid out of his jacket and tossed it in the backseat, never taking his eyes off of the road. As she stared at him, she realized he was driving differently than normal. He was too focused on the road… too intent.

Will was trying not to cry.

He stopped the car in the forest, at a location she could never forget. She followed him out of the car, taking his hand as they walked up to the overlook. He slowly sat on the wall, leaning against the pillar, and then pulled her down to him, placing her against his chest.

She finally released his hand and wrapped her arms around him. And there, buried in each other’s arms, Will cried.