I slip on my black flats and glance at myself one last time in the full length mirror in Alex's walk in closet. My simple black quarter length sleeve dress just reaches my knees and my hair is swooped back in a bun, some tendrils of hair pulled out to frame my face.
Just as I'm about to grab my purse and jacket, three soft knocks come from the other side of the door. "Come in," I call.
Alex slowly peeks his head around the door before fully walking in, a sheepish look on his face. A thin black tie dangles from his fingers and he looks at me helplessly. "Do you still remember how to do this?" he asks, holding up the tie.
I muster up a small smile, remembering the handful of times I had to help him with his tie years ago because neither he nor Shay knew how to tie one. Granted, I didn't know how to at either first, but I learned for him. "Yeah, I think so."
I cross the large closet to stand in front of him, buttoning the top button of his white dress shirt and lifting up the collar. Grabbing the fabric from his hand, I string it around the back of his neck and let the ends drape over his chest. With great effort and precision, I finally manage to loop the tie into a perfect knot, sliding it up to Alex's neck where it rest perfectly—not too tight or too loose.
"There, all set," I say, flattening out his tie over his chest and folding his shirt collar back down.
Just as I'm about to pull my hands away, his hands lift to capture mine, placing them flat on his chest. I tip my chin up to look into his eyes, and while he doesn't say anything verbally, somehow he says everything with the look he's giving me.
"Thank you," he murmurs sincerely after a few moments of silence. He closes his eyes and steps a few inches closer, leaning down to rest his forehead against mine. "For everything," he finishes, opening up those beautiful blue eyes that are inches in front of mine, seemingly staring into my soul.
I swallow, subtly nodding my head and feeling the all too familiar sense of intimacy in this moment. His eyes scan my face before they drift closed again, letting the moment linger for a bit, pressing his forehead firmer to mine. He stands tall and wraps his arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug. Instinctively, I wrap my arms around his middle, and he presses his cheek to the top of my head.
"We should probably get going," I mummer after a while, ruining the moment, but I'd rather do it myself than have Chris or his mother ruin it.
His body tenses before he reluctantly loosens his grip, disengaging from our embrace. "Yeah," he breathes out, worrying his lip as he stares at the door with reluctance and uncertainty.
I wish there was something—anything—I could say to make him feel better. To tell him it's going to be ok, but that doesn't really seem appropriate when he's about to face the fact that his father is dead. I can only imagine the dread he must be feeling, and this isn't one of those moments you can just say the sooner you get it over with the better. This is something that's not going to go away. It's permanent.
I touch his elbow and offer him a small, knowing, and comforting smile. He lets out a shaky breath before nodding, slipping on his suit jacket and grabbing my hand.
He leads me down the hall to his living room, and I glance quickly to spot his mother and Chris still lingering in the kitchen, both brooding over coffee number who knows. When they hear us coming, they both swing their unpleased, disapproving gazes to us, and I quickly dart my eyes to the floor, cowering.
"She's coming?" Chis asks blatantly, not even trying to hide the repugnance in his tone.
"Don't start," Alex says lowly, in warning.
"Alex—" his mother starts, but is abruptly cut off.
"Don't start," Alex repeats, emphasizing the words, his patents wearing thin.
I glance up through my lashes to see Chris's hardened face, his jaw clinched unbelievably tight under the skin while Sandra purses her lips in a firm line, the both of them shooting daggers with their eyes.
"She's coming and that's final." Alex tugs on my hand, leading me to the door. He lets go of my hand momentarily to slip on his coat, quickly reclaiming it when his arm is through the sleeve. "Are we ready to go and get this damn thing over with?" he asks, looking to his mother and Chris, the vulnerability and fragility he posed minutes ago quickly fading and morphing into irritability.
Alex is like a of sheet ice, his moods shifting with the external factors around him. Most of the time he's like thick ice that's been building up forever in frigid temperatures, feet deep, and it takes a lot of effort to break him. And just as it seems some layers are starting to melt or be chipped away, he freezes back up again. But that's the thing about ice, eventually it's going to break. With force or by heat. And it seems like I'm the one who gets to see the broken pieces and the melted, transparent puddle side of him that shows all his emotions.
Right now I can tell the ice is thickening, Alex ready to protect and void himself of all emotions as the moment he's undoubtedly dread grows near. Alex has never been the best at expressing his emotions, concealing them most of the time. That's what he's had to do most of his life living in the spotlight after all, pretending everything in his life is perfect. Then, I don't think he's ever had anyone around him willing to sit down and ask him how he's doing and actually listen. That's something Alex told me he appreciated about me. That I cared and treated him like a normal human being.
Chris's phone chirps out a text and he snatches it from the countertop, a knot between his brows as he looks at the screen. "Yeah, let's go" he announces, standing from the bar stool and glancing at Sandra.
"Perfect," I hear Alex mumble sarcastically, opening up his front door and pulling me through.
Alex doesn't wait for Chris or his mother, leading me to the elevator and down to the underground garage. He stops behind a large black SUV that I can only assume is Chris's or his mothers. His right foot taps impatiently as he looks around aimlessly, like he's trying to find something to focus on to distract him and take his mind off things.
I touch my free hand to his forearm and squeeze his hand that's in mine. His eyes quickly land on mine and he takes in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he wills himself to calm down. But I can still feel the anxiousness vibrating off of him.
The elevator dings and the doors grind open. "If you would just wait a damn minute," I hear Chris grumble, the jingling of his keys and the clicking of Sandra's heels cutting through the silence.
As soon as the doors unlock, Alex pulls the back passenger side door open, letting me in first where I climb over to the second seat behind the drivers. Chris and Sandra get in shortly after, him in the driver's seat and her in the passenger.
The drive is uncomfortably silent with only sounds of traffic and the city filtering through the car. I can practically feel Chris's glare through the rearview mirror every few minutes, and Alex holding my hand only intensifies his hatred for me.
After fighting approximately twelve blocks of traffic, Chris pulls off to the side of the street in front of a five star hotel. I feel Alex's grip on my hand tighten a fraction and I furrow my brows, curious as to why we stopped, but I don't dare open my mouth to ask questions.
A few moments later, the large glass doors of the hotel open and Addison walks out with her caramel skin glowing and her dark hair pin straight to perfection, looking shiny and silky. Her little black dress is strapless with a daring slit that reaches the very top of her thigh, and she's dripping in diamonds. I'll admit she's gorgeous, no doubt, but I feel like what she's wearing is borderline inappropriate for a funeral.
As soon as her Louboutin heels hit the pavement of the sidewalk, I jump out of my seat and scramble to the back row of seating in the car. Before I can make it, Alex grabs my arm, sending me a look that tells me to stay. I've already pissed off too many people today, I can't afford another major complication.
I shoot him a pleading look and he reluctantly lets go of my arm, his face pulling into a frown that makes me feel guilty.
When I settle into the back seat behind Alex, Addison opens the door, ready to slide into my previous seat. The small smile on her face quickly disappears when she spots me in the back seat, and she recoils with astonishment.
A dozen emotions scroll over her face as she stands in the street, staring into the car. "What is she doing here?" she asks, a knot forming between her perfectly shaped brows, as well as a pout on her plump glossy lips.
"Just get in the car," Chris hisses through gritted teeth, his patents wearing thin.
Addison shoots a glare to the back of his head before climbing into the SUV, taking my previous spot behind Chris.
As soon as the car door shuts, Chris wastes no time pulling back out into traffic. Addison tugs at the bottom of her short dress, crossing her long lean legs before tugging on her seatbelt. When she's settled, she twists in her seat to look at me before turning to look at Alex.
"What is she doing here?" Addison repeats with that edge in her voice, seemingly asking anyone but myself.
"Don't worry about it," Alex says lowly, his gaze locked on the back of the passenger seat headrest and jaw tense.
"But—"
"Don't," Alex snaps, causing Addison to jerk her head back in surprise.
Her faces grows hard as she glares at him, and she settles back into her seat, crossing her arms and pouting.
I didn't think this car ride could get any more uncomfortable five minutes ago, but now it's utterly unbearable.
To try to ignore some of the thick tension in the car, I stare out the window, watching all the people pass by. As soon as droplets of rain start to fall from the gray sky, a countless number of umbrellas pop up, making the sidewalks seem more crowded and congested than they already are.
Lost in thought, now watching rain droplets stick to the widow and race each other, I nearly scream when I feel something unexpectedly brush against my leg. Jumping in my seat, my eyes immediately fly down to my leg to see Alex's hand. His arm is slot between his seat and the door, extending back to me. He outstretches his large hand, signaling for me to hold it.
When I grab his hand, secretly lacing his fingers with mine, I see his shoulders visibly relax from his seat in front of me.
It takes us about twenty minutes to pull up to the funeral home, the parking lot nearly empty due to us being here thirty minutes early so immediately family can have a private visitation. We all pile out of the SUV once Chris parks, and he and Sandra lead the way inside with a casual stride. Addison grabs Alex's hand and practically drags him to the door, Alex's footsteps hesitant and weighted.
Alex quickly glances at me over his shoulder, making sure I'm following. I give him an encouraging nod to keep going but make sure to keep a few feet of distance behind them.
Just feet away from the entrance, I hear a faint clicking sound and I snap my head to the left, spotting a man with a camera trying to hide in some bushes at the end of the lot. My stomach instantly drops and I feel a chill run through me.
"Joslyn?" I hear Alex's voice call.
I dart my gaze back to him, watching as he and Addison stand in the doorway of the funeral home. He looks at me expectantly, his blue eyes pleading for me to follow.
"Uh, I-I forgot my phone in the car. I'm going to go grab it really quick," I lie, praying that he doesn't spot the man. "You guys go ahead. I'll be there in a minute."
I spot the flash of fear in his eyes. The fear that I'm going to run and ditch him.
"I'll be right there," I say with certainty. "I promise."
I can see he's hesitant, and I give him a sincere smile that seems to ease his nerves, and he lets Addison pull him inside.
With purpose, I briskly walk to the end of the parking lot towards the man, thanking myself for not wearing heels today. His camera starts clicking wildly, and I immediate hold my hand up to my face. When I reach him, I shove his camera down, making him look me in the eyes.
"What are you doing?" I seethe, anger bubbling up inside of me. How dare he show up here to take photos of a dead man's grieving family at his funeral. "Get out of here!"
His lips tug up into an amused smile, not taking me seriously. "No can do, sweetheart."
"You're disgusting." I shake my head, glaring at him.
Surprising myself, I instinctively lunge for his camera, but he jerks away. "Whoa! Hey, no touching the camera!"
"You delete those photos, now," I demand, fuming.
"Like I said, sweetheart, I can't do that. Do you know how much money I'm going to get with these?"
I scoff, beyond disgusted. "Listen here, sweetheart, you better walk away now and leave that family alone or else I'm going to call the cops."
He shakes his head. "Listen, I'm just here doing my job. Someone called with an anonymous tip this morning and gave up the location and details. You're lucky I'm the only one here right now. More photographers are supposed to show up any minute."
I feel my face pale and heart drop. This can't be happening.
It only takes minutes for my initial shock to turn into rage, knowing Chris is the only one low enough to pull this kind of shit.
"I'm calling the cops," I confirm, already digging in my purse for my phone. "You better warn your friends and get the hell out of here."
I turn on my heel, walking towards the funeral home with my phone pressed to my ear, informing the operator on the other line about the situation while the man yells and taunts me that he's not on the property so he's free to stay and take as many pictures as he wants.
As soon as I hang up, I take a few calming breaths, trying to reel in my rage before entering the building, knowing Alex doesn't need anymore problems on his plate. I take one last long breath before gripping the door handle and walking inside where I'm immediately hit with the scent of flowers and death.
I walk into the lobby where I spot Alex, Addison, Chris, and Sandra all sitting, listening to whatever the funeral director is telling them. Alex's eyes swing to mine when he hears me come in and I see him momentarily relax before refocusing on the man in front of him.
"Are you ready to see him now?" the director asks and Chris and Sandra immediately stand, ready to follow the man to the chapel.
Alex falters, his face pale as he hesitates to stand and all eyes are on him. Again, his eyes find mine, and I do my best to be strong and give him an encouraging nod.
Closing his eyes, he takes in a deep breath through his nose before standing with effort, looking like there's and invisible fifty pound sack on his back. Addison plasters herself to his side, hugging his arm as they start to follow the director down the hall.
I stay put, not wanting to interrupt on their moment, but Alex looks at me over his shoulder, silently pleading for me to follow. I shake my head, not wanting to intrude, but the undeniable sorrow in his eyes makes me feel too guilty to not follow him.
Feeling a hundred pounds heavier, I trudge behind them, making sure to leave and appropriate amount of distance.
At the end of the hall, the director opens the double doors to the large chapel and ushers us inside. Chris and Sandra don't hesitate to walk up to the front of the room to view Mike, but Alex stands at the back, his feet seemingly glued to the floor. Addison tries to pull him along, but he doesn't budge. He just stands there with a frightened look on his face as once again all eyes are on him, waiting for him to go up to his father.
I stare at his suit clad back, waiting for his next move that surprises me. Still frozen, his shaking hand extends backwards, reaching out for me.
I swallow the lump in my throat, my feet now seemingly glued to the floor.
After a few moments, Alex cranes his neck to look at me, his eyes desperate and glossed over as he extends his hand further to me, pleading for me to take it.
With a shaky breath and my heart thumping wildly in my chest, I slowly walk to him, threading his fingers with mine. He tightly grips my hand before finding the strength to approach his father.
Addison lets go of him, shocked and repulsed that he reached out for me. I'm sure Chris and Sandra have similar expressions, but I don't dare look at them, only focusing my attention on Alex.
When we approach the dark wood casket, I don't have the heart to actually look at Mike, not wanting that burned into my memory. Sure, I never really liked Mike—most didn't—but that doesn't mean I ever wanted to see him dead.
We stand there for what seems like forever until I hear Alex sob, and I instinctively wrap my arms around him, walking him backwards until we're a good distance away and he can find space to compose himself.
Not long after, people start showing up. Addison seals herself to Alex's side again, playing the concerned, consoling girlfriend role as dozens of people come up to Alex after paying their respects to his father. I know she's probably trying to seem comforting, but I can tell she's smothering him.
The visitation and funeral seem to drag on, and Alex makes sure that I keep close the whole time, somehow seeking comfort in my presence.
When we leave to go to the cemetery, the perimeter of the parking lot is littered with cops trying to hold back the paparazzi, refueling my anger at Chris for trying to make this a damn press junket.
I can tell Alex is pissed, anger rolling off him in waves as we make the drive to the cemetery, but he doesn't say a word.
Standing at the gravesite, there's a light drizzle, and I offer the small umbrella I packed in my purse to Alex, but he refuses. Addison ends up taking it from me though, using it to shield her and Alex from the rain.
Alex sends me an apologetic look, extending his hand out to me again. I shake my head, but he gives me that look that makes me drop all reason.
I walk up to him and he slings his arm over my shoulders, hugging me to his side to shield me from the rain under the umbrella and for comfort.
THIS. WAS. SO. DAMN. HARD. TO. WRITE. UGH!!!!!
My heart hurts and idk anything anymore. lol
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