Skip to content 
“Here?”
“Yes. Why?”
Before she could answer, a wedding coordinator hurried toward us.
“Ms. Colleen, we’ve been looking everywhere for you. The groom needs his mother.”
I stared at Colleen.
For a moment, that seemed to explain everything.
Adrian had an older brother, Julian.
Of course.
This must be his wedding.
Julian and I had always gotten along well.
He had been quieter than Adrian, but he was kind to me.
At holidays, he was usually the person helping me carry dishes into the kitchen while everyone else argued over football.
I won’t lie — it hurt a little that he hadn’t invited me.
But after Adrian’s death, I’d barely spoken to his family.
Maybe they thought a wedding would be too painful for me.
Maybe Julian had decided that seeing him stand at an altar would remind me too much of everything I’d lost.
I tried not to take it personally.
Then I noticed the corsage on her wrist.
I’d made it myself that morning.
It was for the groom’s mother.
Colleen glanced at me, then quickly followed the coordinator away.
I watched her leave.
Something still felt wrong.
I told myself that explained her strange behavior.
Maybe she’d simply felt awkward seeing me here.
Maybe she thought I would be upset.
Maybe she felt guilty that Julian was getting married only three months after Adrian’s funeral.
I forced myself back to work.
There were arrangements to finish. Candles had to be placed. The ceremony flowers needed one final check.
A few minutes later, I spotted her near the groom’s room.
This time, I almost walked away.
Of course she was there. Her son was getting married.
Still, something about the way she moved bothered me.
She looked around before slipping inside.
Then I heard Colleen’s voice.
“You need to hurry. The ceremony starts in 20 minutes.”
A man answered.
I stopped.
That wasn’t Julian’s voice.
Something about it made my whole body go cold.
I had heard that voice half asleep in the morning.
I had heard it whisper beside me in movie theaters.
I had heard it arguing about cake.
But that was impossible.
I moved closer to the door.
Through the narrow opening, I could see Colleen.
Then the man stepped into view.
My hand flew to my mouth.
Adrian.
Alive.
And he was wearing the same suit he’d bought for our wedding.
I couldn’t move.
For one terrible second, my mind rejected what my eyes were showing me.
“Does everything look okay?” he asked.
Colleen adjusted his tie.
“You look perfect.”
Adrian smiled.
“Good. I don’t want anything going wrong today.”
I stumbled backward before either of them could see me.
My heart was pounding so hard that I could hear it.
Three months earlier, I’d stood at Adrian’s funeral believing I’d never hear his voice again.
Now he was alive.
His mother knew.
And they had both let me mourn him.
I turned and ran.
I barely made it to the restroom before the tears came.
I locked myself inside and cried until I could barely breathe.
My phone started ringing. It was my assistant.
“Meredith? The coordinator’s looking for you. They’re about to start.”
I looked at myself in the mirror.
My eyes were swollen.
My mascara was ruined.
“Meredith? Are you okay?”
“No.”
“Do you want me to take over?”
I thought about Adrian.
Alive. Smiling.
Getting ready for a wedding while I’d spent three months grieving him.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
I wiped my face and picked up my florist badge.
And suddenly, I knew exactly what I was going to do next — and how I was going to make Adrian regret what he’d done to me.
I stood in front of the mirror for another few seconds.
My hands were still shaking.
Part of me wanted to leave.
Another part wanted to find Adrian and demand an explanation.
But somehow, neither option felt remotely possible anymore.
He had watched me bury him.
His mother had held my hand while I cried.
Someone had arranged a funeral.
Someone had put a coffin in the ground.