Page 9 of From West, With Regret

All eyes are glued to me, and they have no idea. They have no idea how many countless personalities Heath possessed and his ability to turn them on a dime.

I fell victim to the love he offered.

Glenna’s eyes are now as wide as they will go. I can’t tell from where I’m standing, but I’m certain her crow’s feet will have completely disappeared.

My neck prickles with anxiety, and this time, I feel the tears coming. My boots are sinking into the ground, attempting to bury me right alongside Heath.

Panic starts to take over, when a pair of shiny, black shoes catch my attention.

I follow them as they move across the front row and stop beside Glenna. They glisten on the rain-soaked, manicured lawn, and my eyes move up the long legs of the man wearing them, taking in his black suit, before I’m staring back at a pair of familiar blue eyes.

Kind blue eyes.

A sharp jaw hidden by a well-kept beard.

Dark, slicked-back hair, revealing those eyes that warm me in places that have lied dormant for months.

His stare stops the ground from swallowing me whole.

The man beside my mother-in-law is the bartender I met at The Veiled Door.

Then it all clicks.

He’s sitting beside Glenna. He’s Heath’s brother.

He must be. Right? Why else would he be sitting beside Glenna? She hasn’t told him to leave like she did with Wyatt.

Memories of my conversation with the green-eyed stranger come flooding back to me like a torrential storm raging against the shore. The air is sucked from my lungs, and I grip the edge of the lectern to stop myself from fainting. The Bible in front of me begins to blur, the gold-etched lettering melding together.

The one time I was honest about Heath, the one time I told the truth about my husband, I said it to his brother.

My attention falls back to Heath’s grave. Our secrets will no longer be buried with him. They’re out in the open, living in the mind of his brother.

Fuck.

My nails cut into the wood, and my eyes roam over the crowd before finding Heath’s brother again. With a watery gaze, I inhale a shaky, unsteady breath. The same erratic beat of my heart returns.

His dark eyebrows pinch together, and a look of concern washes over his gorgeous face. With his hand resting on his thigh, he closes his fist, tightening his fingers as if he’s holding himself back. Back from what, I don’t know.

But the worry etched in his expression is unmistakable. My stomach warms at the sight of him, mingling with the humiliation I feel. He’s too familiar, but I know I’ve never met him before. The puzzle pieces are scattered even farther apart now, and the walls close in on me.

I’m suffocating. Again.

“I’m…” I’m certain I’m going to die right here beside Heath. And what a fucking shame that would be.

I shift to find Glenna staring at me. Her lips have disappeared as she presses her mouth firmly shut. A look of disapproval shielded by the mesh fabric draping over the front of her black hat.

“I’m sorry,” I quickly whisper into the microphone, stifling my sob by covering my mouth before I leave the lectern as fast as my feet will carry me.

I swipe my purse from my empty chair, unable to look Glenna in the eye.

Then I run for the hills.

I let my feet carry me as fast as they can, considering the terrain. My boots land across a landmine of puddles and mud, the liquid splashing up past my ankles. Dots of water and mud spatter onto my bare legs, but I push through, putting as much distance between the funeral and me as possible.

I’ve nearly made it to the road winding through the cemetery when a hand latches onto my arm, pulling me to a stop.

“Hey,” he softly says. “Wait, wait, wait.”

---