behind her, wrapping his arms around her to offer some kind of solace. She did not acknowledge his action, instead choosing to stare ahead, looking out into the nothingness of the night. Her tears were silent; the only evidence of them at all was the moisture he felt on his arms as they fell. Still, Garrett held on, knowing that she should not be alone in this moment.
“It will be okay.”
She did not move. “Nothing will ever be okay again.”
“You say that now, but it will be.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“I am going to go back with you.” It was not a request. It was a fact. His heart ached at her loss. He wanted, no, he needed to go back with her and be there in her time of need.
She did not say another word the rest of the evening. The next several days would be a challenge for the both of them to get through. Not only would she be in a tremendous amount of grief, but also he recognized that it was a fine line he was going to need to walk. His job was to be there as her mentor, her friend. But it was his continually evolving feelings towards her that might prevent that, and he had to assure he did not try anything inappropriate that she would regret in her compromised emotional state.
The next morning it did not surprise him when Trish advised that Caitlyn was staying in her room and was not coming out. After two days, he was beginning to believe that he would need to force her out physically to attend the funeral. When he had pulled up to the house, he was very relieved to see her standing there on the porch with her suitcases, ready to fly home.
****
Garrett quietly observed Caitlyn as she stood in her black dress, with a black umbrella, trying to protect herself from the drizzle that was coming down a bit stronger than the weatherman had called for. She stared ahead at the casket in front of her, not moving an inch as the pastor said some comforting words about death and the afterlife.
A cold hard man stood beside her, which he presumed was her father. Garrett could see that maybe at one point in his life her father had been a happy man, but the past ten years had clearly taken a toll on him, leaving him obviously bitter and angry. Throughout the entire service, Walter Young never once even glanced at his daughter to make sure she was alright.
So Garrett stood off to the side, watching what remained of her family dynamic unfold. As the casket was being lowered into the ground, some of her cousins stopped by to speak to her father
He was amazed that they did not attempt to talk to Caitlyn at all, instead pretending as if she was merely not there.
It was no wonder Caitlyn carried all this guilt the entire time over her sister if this was how her family treated her. It angered him to know they treated such a good person like that.
When the cousins finally walked away, leaving just the tiny immediate family behind at the casket, Garrett walked slowly up to Caitlyn, his eyes reaching her sad ones.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Caitlyn.”
Caitlyn nodded, her eyes pleading. He had hoped that the emotional wall she had so effectively put up would come down. “Don’t leave. Please.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Her father stole a glance at the casket that now lay in the ground before turning briefly to his still living daughter. At first, Garrett thought that he might open up to her, but it was quickly apparent that he would say nothing. Still, Caitlyn took it as her sole opportunity to talk to him.
“Dad…”
Mr. Young did not respond. Caitlyn pressed further. “Dad… Dad, I am so sorry. So incredibly sorry for what happened.”
Her father stared as though looking right through her, barely acknowledging her presence.
“Dad, please talk to me!” Caitlyn’s voice took on a frantic edge.
Her father’s response was pure ice, his voice devoid of any emotion. “I told you on your eighteenth birthday and I’ll say it one last time. I am not your father. As far as I am concerned, my two daughters died the day of Hanna’s car accident.”
Garrett would like to think that a father could not be so cruel to a child, but he knew better. Her father twisted the emotional knife he had plunged into her. “You