Page 20 of Feels Like Coming Home

He started to smile at me when someone approached him, someone who recognized him I assumed, and started talking to him. I watched as he made friendly gestures and signed something for the man. It took me almost a whole minute of watching Cam to realize that someone was talking to me at the very same time.

“Hello? Haley? Hays? Did you hear what I said?”

I dragged my eyes away from Cam to fully register that Piper was standing next to me in a long black dress and modest heels. She was holding my arm and looking at me, concern written all over her face.

“Wh—what? What did you say?” I asked as my eyes went between her and Cam, who was now walking toward a chair in the back of the room.

“I said are you ready to get started? What are you looking at?” She turned her head and traced my line of vision. “Oh my god…is that?—”

“Camden Johnson,” I finished under my breath.

“What thefuckis he doing here?! I thought you hadn’t seen or heard from him since?—”

“That night in our dorm room freshman year,” I finished again, more firmly than before, feeling my lungs deflate. A wave of anger, frustration, and shame built up inside me making my fingers tingle and my insides feel hot. Remembering that night while also trying to mourn Connor was almost too much to handle.

“What is he doing here?” she asked again. I didn’t have an answer for her because I didn’t know why he was here. I hadn’t told him where Connor’s funeral was, had I? I quickly scanned my memory of our conversation yesterday and couldn’t recall sharing this detail with him.

“I don’t know, but we should get started. People are seated.” I grabbed a program from the chair behind me and started toward the woman in the corner of the room who worked at the funeral home to let her know we were ready to start the service. Before I went, Piper grabbed my arm.

“Hays, what is going on?” Her voice came out urgent and concerned. “Don’t you think you should go figure out what he wants?”

I yanked my arm out of hers and bit back, “Yes, Piper, I do. But right now really isn’t the best time. I’m about to lay my husband of eight years to rest in a ceremony I didn’t want to have because it's not what he would’ve wanted. I don’t care why Cam is here, I have bigger things to deal with at the moment than him.” Her face fell and I knew immediately that I had hurt her feelings.

“You’re right. I’m sorry, sweetie. I just didn’t expect to see him and wanted to make sure you were okay. I know how badly he hurt you after that night and I’m sure seeing him now doesn’t feel great either.”

“It doesn’t, but if I focus too much on him, I will literally break down right here on this ugly ass carpet and no one wants to see that.” My words came out hotly again and I took a breath, trying to compose myself. The weight of the weekend was starting to pull me down and I was unfairly taking it out on Piper. She was only trying to look out for me. I looked at her again. “Hey, I’m sorry for snapping, it’s just?—”

She cut me off, “You don’t need to apologize. You’re hurting and I get that. I’m sorry for pushing you.” She grabbed my right ring finger and gave it a squeeze, something we always did to let the other one know everything was okay. I grabbed hers and squeezed it back. What did I ever do to deserve a friend like this?

She then put both her hands on my shoulders, “You, Haley Mason, are the strongest woman I know. You are here, standing tall, and showing people that you loved Connor more than anything else. Your strength and bravery inspire me daily and I'm so lucky to call you my best friend.” Her eyes were starting to mist, as were mine. “You ready to do this?”

I nodded my head and fought back tears as we both walked together toward the funeral director. It was time to lay Connor to rest and all I could do was try to hold myself together as we did.

The service wasshort but nice. Both of Connor’s parents spoke, then one of his best friends, and it ended with me.

My eulogy included the story of how Connor and I met, how his favorite thing to do on the weekend was explain the stock market to me, and how he was my best friend. As I said the last part, I used every fiber of my being to not look at Cam who was still sitting in the back of the room, staring at me without breaking eye contact. As I spoke of Connor, I could feel my heart breaking into what felt like a million pieces but I managed to stay standing and get through my speech.

Once I had finished and sat back down, I laid my head on Piper’s shoulder and quietly cried into a tissue. Getting through the week after his accident was hard, but standing up in front of a room of people who knew him and talking about how much I loved him was torture.

Once I finished my eulogy, the funeral director came to the podium and let everyone know that there would be a reception and food in the room down the hall and that people were welcome to make their way there.

I knew that giving Connor’s eulogy would be hard, but what I had been dreading the most was the reception. I didn’t want to stand in a crowded room filled mostly with people from Connor’s family that I didn’t know because we lived three hours away and rarely got to travel to visit. I didn’t want to hear “I’m so sorry for your loss” or “Connor was a great man.” I wanted to go back to the hotel room, crawl under the covers of my bed, and never come out.

Unfortunately, I was the widow and it was my husband’s funeral, so I needed to go and pretend like I was okay with all of it when I wasn’t.

People were mostly nice and only one woman, a great aunt of Connor’s, asked the insanely rude question of “why don’t you have children?”

“Didn’t you love him?” she asked.“No, actually, I hated his guts and didn’t want his sperm commingling with my eggs because he was the worst person ever and that’s why I was with him for ten years,”is what I wanted to say, but instead, I just said that we hadn’t thought it was the right time, which was partially true.

After walking around and talking with Connor’s family for about an hour, I found an empty table and took a seat. Piper had headed back to our hotel after the first forty-five minutes to answer some urgent emails for She Who Thrives, so I was alone for the first time all weekend. I had only started to relax when a tall, familiar figure with strong arms and an expensive suit came and sat down next to me. I didn’t even need to look at him to know who he was. His scent gave him away instantly.

“Hey, Haley,” he tried after a moment of sitting next to me. I hadn’t said anything to him, hell, I hadn’t even addressed the fact that he sat down. I just continued to stare at the water spot on the white tablecloth where someone had spilled their drink.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I finally said, my voice coming out with a tinge of anger. My eyes stayed locked on the water stain because the thought of looking at him made me even angrier.

Angry that I was sitting at a funeral my husband didn’t want. Angry that my husband and the love of my life is gone. And angry that, for some god-forsaken reason, Cam thought it would be okay to just show up unannounced. He had a propensity to do that though, so I shouldn’t be surprised.

“I…I thought you could use a friend,” he started, chewing on the side of his lip. I could see him out of the corner of my eye and knew he was trying to pick his words carefully.

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