Chapter seven

Howard stayed with her for another hour before he finally left for the night.

Claire tried to sleep but nightmares kept jolting her awake. Jeff's cold face as they wheeled her into surgery. Irene's mocking laughter. The terror of dying.

Her hands cradled her stomach protectively in the darkness. What would Jeff's reaction have been to her pregnancy? Would he have cared? Or would he have been relieved to lose both of them at once?

The thoughts tortured her until exhaustion dragged her under.

Sunlight streaming through the hospital window woke her. She sat up and her heart lurched when she saw the clock. Ten in the morning. The funeral was at noon.

She wanted to attend her funeral, to see Jeff's face as he layed her into the ground.

She threw off the blanket and stood on shaky legs. Her body ached but she pushed past the pain because this was more important.

She was still wearing the plain black pants and dark sweater she'd worn before going to the hospital. In the bathroom mirror, she barely recognized herself. Pale skin stretched tight over sharp cheekbones. Dark circles under her eyes. Blonde hair tangled and lifeless.

She pulled her hair into a tight bun and wrapped the black scarf Howard had left around her head, tucking every strand out of sight. The sunglasses he'd placed on the bedside table covered half her face.

She looked like any other mourner now.

Getting out of the hospital was easy. The corridors were mostly empty and the few nurses she passed barely glanced at her. She kept her head down and walked with purpose.

Outside, cold air slapped her face as she he hailed a taxi with shaking hands.

"Cemetery on Hillcrest Avenue."

The drive felt endless. Her mind spun with desperate hope. Howard had told her that Jeff was grieving, what if Jeff really regretted and wanted her back? 

What if he finally realized what he'd lost? 

She could tell him she was alive and they could start over?

Her hand pressed against her stomach. They could be a complete family.

The cemetery gates appeared and Claire's throat closed up. She paid the driver and stepped onto the gravel path.

Old headstones and ancient oak trees stretched before her. She could see a small crowd gathered near the back at the Anderson family plot.

Every instinct screamed at her to run but her feet carried her forward anyway.

The service had already begun when she reached the edge of the gathering. About twenty people stood in a semicircle around an open grave. Claire positioned herself behind a large marble angel monument and kept her head bowed.

No one looked at her. Just another mourner in black.

Then she saw him and her breath caught painfully.

Jeff stood at the front in a black suit. Pale. Shoulders rigid. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.

Even now, after everything he'd done, the sight of him made her chest ache with stupid, desperate love.

“Get a grip Claire”. She muttered.

Irene stood beside him in an elegant black dress. Perfect makeup. Perfect posture. Tissues clutched in her hand while she played the grieving sister.

A pastor spoke but Claire couldn't hear the words over the rushing in her ears. Her eyes locked on Jeff's face and searched desperately for something that looked like grief or regret or love.

Irene stepped forward to speak and her voice carried across the cemetery with practiced sorrow. "My beloved sister was the most selfless person I knew. She loved so deeply, so completely..."

Claire's hands clenched into fists so tight her nails cut into her palms. Every word was a lie but Irene delivered them beautifully while dabbing at dry eyes.

The crowd murmured sympathetically and Claire wanted to scream.

Everyone moved closer to the grave. Claire shifted behind the angel statue as her heart hammered so hard it hurt.

The casket began to descend. Ropes creaked. Wood disappeared into darkness.

That's supposed to be me, Claire thought and felt dizzy. I'm supposed to be in that box.

Her eyes were focused on Jeff, he actually looked sad and her heart went out to him, did he want her back? What would be his reaction if she comes out from her hiding place now and tell him that she's alive?

Someone handed Jeff a shovel and he stood frozen while staring down at the casket. Just for a second his shoulders hunched forward and his jaw clenched so tight she could see it even from this distance.

To her shock, lone tear slide down his cheek and her heart took a dive. He was crying because of her? What if he had realized that he loves her? He actually cared that she was dead.

Hope exploded in her chest like fire. Hot and desperate and overwhelming. Jeff loved her. He had to love her if he looked like that. Maybe Irene had manipulated everything and he was finally seeing the truth.

Her hand gripped the cold marble and she stood still until people started dispersing one after the other, she waited until he was alone…well with Irene.

She could take her chance and tell him she wasn't dead.

She could go to him right now. Tell him she was alive. Show him their baby. They could fix this. Start over. Be the family she'd always dreamed of.

her foot shifted forward without permission and she stepped out from behind the statue.

She would give him a second chance, that's what love is about…giving chances.

They still hadn't noticed her presence and she was almost there when Irene moved closer to Jeff and placed her head on his shoulder. Her hand rubbed his arm in slow circles.

Her jaw clenched when Jeff looked down at her with his face was still tight with emotion. Claire's heart soared because surely he would push Irene away. Surely he would realize she wasn't the one for him but his next word to Irene stopped her on her track and made her stomach drop.

"Let's get married immediately.”