Until Harry - L.A. Casey Page 0,43

your aunt’s grave and put down fresh flowers. I put some on your friend’s grave too.”

My voice was tight with emotion.

“Thanks, Uncle Harry,” I said. “You’re the best.”

“That’d be you, darling.”

I blinked a couple of times when Kale moved next to me. Looking around, I realised the mass was over. The priest came down to my family and shook each of our hands as he offered his condolences. I couldn’t reply to him, so Kale did it for me.

“Thank you, Father,” he said.

I retook my mother’s and grandmother’s hands as Kale, my brothers, my father and two footmen lifted my uncle’s coffin back onto their shoulders and walked him out of the church, with everyone in attendance following slowly behind. Once my uncle was safely placed inside the hearse, we got back into the black car and journeyed to my uncle’s house for one final drive-by.

It hurt like hell.

It tore me up as we passed by the house and headed to his final resting place at York Cemetery. Everything seemed to fly by at that point. Within a blink of the eye, we were at the gravesite, standing next to the grave plot as my uncle’s coffin was lowered down into the ground and the priest spoke his prayers.

A friend of my mother’s passed a single red rose to each of my family members and Kale, for us to throw down on top of my uncle’s coffin. I was the last person to throw my rose, but before I let it fall, I kissed the petals and whispered, “I’ll miss you forever.”

The rose seemed to fall in slow motion and landed on the nameplate of the coffin, where my uncle’s name was engraved as clear as day. The priest spoke some more about what a well-loved man my uncle had been and how many lives he had touched.

Not long later, “Time to Say Goodbye” by Andrea Bocelli and Sarah Brightman began to play once the priest had said his final prayers. I managed to hold it together for the first minute of the song, but as soon as the chorus began to play, and the words “time to say goodbye” were sung, I broke down.

Arms came around me from behind, and a face rested against the side of mine.

“He’ll always be with you,” Kale’s gruff voice whispered.

I sobbed and turned into his body, holding onto him as I cried through the heartbreak that was surging through me. I didn’t know how long I cried, but I was soon in my parents’ arms as we wept for my uncle. People began to leave then, once the song drew to a close, signalling the end of the funeral.

I looked through the crowd of people that was dispersing, and my eyes landed on Kale. He was standing in front of Kaden’s grave, which was only thirty or so plots down from my aunt and uncle’s grave. He was staring at the headstone with his hands thrust deep in the pockets of his slacks. I was about to walk over to him, simply to be there for him, like he had been for me, but I froze to the spot when, out of nowhere, I saw Drew making her way over to Kale.

I took the time to take her in, noticing that while she still very much looked the same, her face showed signs of her loss. It wasn’t as vibrant as I remembered. I didn’t know if she spoke to Kale when she reached his side, but he glanced down to her and, taking his left hand from his pocket, put his arm around her shoulder, hugging her to him before they both turned their focus to the headstone of their son.

Jealousy swirled around in my stomach, and I wanted to beat myself into a pulp because of it. Why did I still have to feel envious at the sight of them together when it was so obvious that the only connection between them now was the memory of their lost son?

I looked away from them so they could share their moment with their son in private instead of having my roaming eyes lingering on them. My focus quickly landed on my grandmother, who was hugging Kale’s parents. I hadn’t seen them in years, but they were just how I remembered them; they just had a few extra lines around their eyes and less of a spring to their step.

Losing their grandson, and watching their son go through his struggle, was the cause