Bared Souls - Ellie Wade Page 0,107

How could he?

I close my eyes and remember opening the big white box and then wearing this dress while Leo asked me to be his forever before he removed me from it and made love to me for hours. It feels like it was yesterday. We were so happy, and life was perfect. I’d give anything for that day back.

I suppose most things from here on out are going to carry some sort of memory. Everything in my life has been touched by Leo in some aspect. I have to find a way to go on despite the heartache that the memories bring. This is my new normal.

I put on the dress and slip on some black flats. Stepping over toward the nightstand on Leo’s side of the bed, I pick up his wedding ring. I find the wooden box Leo made me and run my fingers across the quote he carved into the top. My knees threaten to give out. I hold on to every ounce of strength I have to remain upright.

Opening the lid, I take a necklace from the box and let the Tiffany’s heart pendant slide off the chain, and I replace the heart with Leo’s ring. The funeral director asked me if I wanted Leo to be buried with it, and I told him no. I want that piece of him, of our marriage, on me. Leo wouldn’t mind. He told me once that I could cremate him and flush his ashes in the toilet for all he cared. I remember gasping and smacking his arm when he said that.

He simply stated, “Babe, when I die, my soul will be wherever souls go. My body is just a shell, and when my soul leaves it, it’s useless. I don’t care what you do with it.”

So, I know that he wouldn’t want to be buried with something that held importance to me.

Holding my hand to my chest, I feel his titanium band against my skin, and I sigh before making for the bathroom. The room is mirror free, thanks to my outburst, and now, it’s also glass and blood-free, thanks to Amos. I brush my teeth for at least five minutes. It feels so refreshing. I can’t remember brushing them since … it happened. I run a brush through my wet hair before twisting it into a low bun. Using my compact as a mirror, I apply some tinted moisturizer to my face to aid in covering up the purple bags under my eyes. After a quick layer of waterproof mascara, I deem myself presentable. Though minimal, the effort is daunting.

I find Amos in the kitchen, dressed in his suit.

“Hey.” He smiles sweetly. “You look beautiful.”

I shake my head. “Beautiful, no, but hopefully, I look human … enough.”

“You definitely look human.” He plates a couple of breakfast burritos and sets them down on the table. “You need to eat something.”

“I’m not hungry,” I protest.

“I understand that, but you’ve barely eaten anything in four days. You’re going to pass out at the funeral. Please eat. For me?” he pleads.

“We’re going to be late.”

He sets a large mug of coffee and a tall glass of water on the table above the plate. “That doesn’t matter. They won’t start without you. I’ll call and make sure of it. You need to eat something. It’s going to be a long day.”

“Fine,” I relent with a sigh and take a seat at the table.

I bite into the burrito, and though I know from experience that Amos’s breakfast burritos are delicious, this one tastes like cardboard. I use the glass of water to help me get it down.

Amos rinses off the pan, dries it, and puts it away before walking over to me.

“Besides the obvious, how are you feeling about today? About seeing everyone?” he questions.

“Really nervous. You saw me in the bathroom. That’s me as of late.” I put the burrito down on the plate and take a sip of the coffee, which tastes like ass.

“You’ll be okay. I’ll be by your side the entire time, and if you need to leave, we’ll leave. You don’t have to stay for the luncheon afterward.”

“That’s probably a good idea. I can barely stomach any of this.” I gesture to the half-eaten burrito before me. “We should go.”

“Okay.” Amos doesn’t argue with me, and I’m grateful.

I just want this day to be over.

He retrieves my phone from the bedroom and puts it into my purse. I’m not sure why since I haven’t opened a