Look After You (21 page)

I take the most terrifying step of my life as I step over the threshold into the beautiful, brightly lit church, but I don’t stop, I just continue to walk, my heart thrashing against my chest, swallowing the nausea that continues its pursuit up my esophagus.

When we approach the crowded row of pews, Ashton leans into me, his mouth close to my ear. “Shall we see your sister now or after the ceremony?”

“Now,” I say calmly, despite my frantic racing heart. He leads me down the
aisle, his hand clasped firmly in mine. As we continue our walk of shame, my stiletto shoes become louder with each step I take and I hear numerous gasps, whispers, a few, “Holy shit, is that Ava?” comments and the urge to run flows through my veins. Ashton must sense the apprehension, because he whispers in my ear, “Breathe, just breathe, Ava,” and that calms me until I notice Avery with our mother, out of the corner of my eye, at the front of the church, a shocked look on their faces. Instead of giving them the satisfaction of my attention, I ignore my mother’s glare and Avery’s smug smile and continue in the direction of my sister, in her open casket.

As we approach a set of pearly white marble steps, this is the first opportunity I give myself to see the arrangement and I gasp at the very sight of it. At the top of the steps sits a half open silver metallic casket with a colorful funeral cross laid against the closed section of the casket, with matchin
g bright multicolored heart tributes surrounding it. To add to the finishing touches, to the left of the casket stands a golden memorial frame of a beautiful Fran stood in front of a spectacular orange tinted sunset, with the same beautiful glow in her eyes and the big bright smile I always remembered her having.

Smiling sadly, tears begin to form, but I quickly push them away. After taking
a deep breath, I count to three again and with the strength of having Ashton beside me, I force my feet to move up the marble steps towards the casket.

Once I have made my final step, I stand in front of the casket and look down at my sister. I
burst out into tears as I take in her peaceful beauty just laying there, dressed perfectly in a red-orange silk dress and matching silk scarf fastened around her neck, her long dark hair in loose waves, her soft flawless face applied with just the right amount of make-up. My trembling eyes trace over the scarf, and it doesn’t take a genius to know why it was placed around her neck.

As the realization of what I am looking at, registers, my legs quickly turn to jelly and I feel them start to sway as my feet fall out from under me. Luckily Ashton catches me just in t
ime, scooping me into his arms. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you, baby,” he says gently into my ear, his arms holding me up right.

“She’s dead. My baby sister is dead,” I mutter in a whisper through my cries.
 “Why?” I ask myself, but I know if I looked to the left of me, I would see the reason why. As the tears continue to seep down my face, Ashton’s hold loosens around my waist as I lean forward, tracing my fingertips against the coolness of her cheek.

“I’m so sorry, Fran,” I whimper as the guilt consumes me, guilt for leaving her, guilt over my bastard brother, guilt over her death. Guilt for the years I missed watching her grow up.

Unable to stand here any longer, staring at her, hoping to see a breath pass her lips or a flicker of her eyes, I press my lips against her forehead then pull away, wiping softly at my fallen tears.

“I love you,” I whimper, before turning to Ashton.
 “I’d like to sit down now,” I say in a dejected tone. Ashton gently leads me down the marble steps, towards the rows of pews. We take a seat on the front row, the opposite side from my mother and brother. I curl up against Ashton’s chest and wait for the funeral to begin.

The ceremony only lasts around twenty-five minutes before we all rise to exit the church, to make our way to the cemetery for Fran
’s burial. Ignoring the curious looks and stares, I am led out of the church and back to the car. As we approach the Mercedes, I hear the sound of my name being called and my body turns to steel, the hairs on the back of my neck on red alert. I clench my fingers forcefully against Ashton’s arm as panic threatens to take over. Taking a deep breath, I slowly turn around to confront my brother.

“Avery,” I say, my voice void of any emotion or eye contact, almost vomiting as his name falls from my lips.

“I can’t believe you’re here. It’s been a long time.”

I shudder at the irritating nasally sound of his voice, the worst sound in the world. Instinctively I clutch harder against Ashton’s hand, cowering closer into him, visibly shaking in his grasp. Ashton glances down at me with a questioning look, before returning his attention to my brother, his eyes darkening with irritation, s
izing him up, clearly not happy.

“I’m here for Fran,” I say through gritted teeth, giving him a darkened glare, hatred pouring from me, wishing I had the power to kill him with just one look alone.

He arrogantly nods his head and then moves his eye line to Ashton. He holds is his hand out. “Hey, I’m Avery Jacobson, Ava’s brother.”

I shudder at the use of his word
‘brother’, my fingernails clawing deep into Ashton’s chest. Ashton raises his eyebrow in suspicion as he glances down at me, then quickly returns his gaze to my brother’s hand, sizing him up again. Reluctantly he accepts his hand and gives it a firm shake. “Ashton Bailey,” Ashton says sharply, eyeing him up with disapproval. Avery notices this and an amused smirk lifts on his face. He glances to me briefly before turning his gaze back to Ashton. “It’s nice to meet you, Ashton Bailey.”

At the same time as he says this, he is joined by the blonde woman I saw him with earlier. She links her arm with his, beaming us with a smi
le. “Are you going to introduce me to your friends?” I hear her ask as she looks up at him with Bambi eyes. He smiles. “Sorry, babe. This is my sister, Ava and her boyfriend, Ashton.”

I don’t bother correcting him, he can think whatever he likes. It
’s none of his goddamn business. Her eyes light up as she zones in on me with familiarity. “Oh, hi! It’s so nice to finally meet you, Ava. I’ve heard so much about you!”

I shudder inwardly at her words, despising her already for b
eing associated with a monster. “I bet,” I mumble, wondering how much she knows. Very little probably. A monstrous asshole like Avery wouldn’t admit to raping his own sisters. At this very thought, I feel a painful crack in the center of my heart. She seems a little bit taken back by my icy response.

“This is my wife, Rebecca,” Avery announces to me, causing me choke with disgust. Ashton looks down to me, concern written on his face. I can’t believe he has a wife. He doesn’t deserve a bag full of piss, let alone a beautiful doting wife, a doting wife who is supporting a smallish bump.

She notices me looking at her bump and smoothes her hand over her stomach, as if for full emphasis on her pregnancy. “We’re pregnant, three months,” she beams, her eyes dancing with excitement. Then she continues, oblivious to her annoying ramblings.
“Have you any children?” My insides clench with fear at the thought of my daughter, being in close range to my brother, even in mere thought. I don’t even want her existence known to him. It’s bad enough to find out that he might have a daughter of his own. If he is anything like the brother he was to Fran and me, then I can’t even contemplate the things he could unleash on his daughter as a father.

I elbow Ashton in the ribs gently, in clear indication that I am uncomfortable with this conversation and want to leave. Now.

“It was nice to meet you, Rebecca,” I say in a grim tone, a contradiction to the actual words. Ashton gets the hint and turns us toward the car and ushers me into the cool exterior. I am shaking hysterically when the car begins its journey to the cemetery.

Ashton pulls me into his arms, seeing the evident tremors.
“Shit, you’re shaking.” He holds me to his chest, his arms tightly compressed against my body.

“I’ll…I’ll b-b-b…be…o-o-o…okay…in a-a-a…m-m-m minute,” I practically stutter out my words as tremors continue through my body. Asht
on continues to hold me until the spasms finally come to a stop.

He pulls me from his embrace, to look down at my face.
“Can-can I ask you a question?” I know with the hesitation of his words that I’m not going to like it. I nod with caution. He points his head in the direction we just came from.

“Your brother,” he says with a grimace before continuing, “Is he the reason you left town, the reason you ran away?” I clench my eyes shut, definitely hating the question. Knowing I cannot dodge the question after what he just witnessed, I just nod my head sadly, unable to give him a verbal answer.

“What did he do to you?” His voice is laced with anger, the green in his eyes nearly turning a solid black. I shake my head as panic begins to escalate up my chest, causing my breath to constrict. Only one person knows of my secret, and I am not ready to delve into my demons, not today. I just want to say goodbye to my sister.

“Ava, look at me, whatever it is you can tell me.”

I try to force my escaping tears away, but they just keep coming back with a vengeance. I desperately wish I could tell him, but a part of me worries that if I do tell him, that he wouldn’t believe me, just like my brother said all of those years ago and it’s the same reason why I have never told Sebastian.
“Even if you did want to tell somebody, nobody will believe you.”
It would kill me if I told Ashton, and he thought I was lying. I would lose him, and that thought almost cripples me. That feeling in itself confuses me. I don’t know what it means for my feelings for him or what it could possibly mean for my relationship with Sebastian. All I know is that Ashton’s friendship is something I want to cherish for a little while longer.

I wipe furiously at my falling tears.
“I just want to say goodbye to Fran,” my voice trembles with a vulnerable whisper, another tear slowly rolling down my cheek. Ashton catches it with the pad of his thumb, a somber smile lifting at the corner of his mouth.
“Okay.” He nods with understanding. He pulls me back into his comforting chest and holds me in his arms until we come to a final stop at the cemetery. We make our way to the allocated spot where her burial will take place. As I struggle to walk through the grass in my six-inch heels, I notice where her burial will take place, and I freeze on the spot. I can see my father’s headstone not too far from the open grave. Ashton stops still in front of me, his fingers brushing against the top of my forearms.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Fran,” I say, taking a deep breath. “She’s being buried beside my dad.” I point to his headstone in
the distance. It has been over ten years since I last visited and even now, the pain of missing him still hurts.

“Shit, Ava, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry,” he says with true compassion in his voice.

I wipe my tears away with a handkerchief that the chauffeur gave to me as I exited the car, giving Ashton a weak smile through my sadness.
“Thank you. Would you mind if I made a quick visit before the burial begins? It’s just…it’s been a while since I’ve visited.”

He takes a hold of my hand and pulls me to him. “Of course not. Come on.”

I lead him over to my dad’s grave, stopping a foot away from his headstone, which has a fresh set of flowers lay beside it.

“I wish I’d brought some flowers,” I muse as I read my father’s headstone.

I
N LOVING MEMORY OF

PATRICK MATTHEW JACOBSON

A DEVOTED HUSBAND, FATHER, SON, AND BROTHER

01.04.1960 – 04.13.1994

As I look up at Ashton, I find he isn’t even stood beside me. I turn around in confusion to find him jogging towards me with a handful of bright orange flowers.

“Here you go,” Ashton says, handing them over to me. I stare at him dumbfounded as I gently take hold of them. Where did he get the flowers from? He answers my silent question.
“I noticed a bed of wild flowers when we walked in.”

I can’t help but smile, a small laugh bubbling from me.
“You’re not supposed to take these from the gardens, Ashton.” I smack him against his suit arm with my hand, shaking my head at him.
“But it’s very sweet, thank you.”

I turn back to my dad’s headstone, gently taking a crouching position, laying the flowers down. I remove a fleck of dirt from one corner of the headstone with my thumb, moving into a comfortable position on my knees, sitting back on my heels
.

“Hi
, Daddy. I’m sorry it’s been a while since the last time I visited, but I’m sure you understand. I hate how it’s under these circumstances though. I have great news. You’re a grandpa. Yes, I’ve had a baby. She’s called Lily-Mai, Lily after my favorite flower and Mai after Sebastian’s mom, but I’m sure you already knew that. I’m pretty positive you’re the reason she’s still here with us. Thank you for that because she is my entire world.” I wipe at my tears, before continuing. I point to Ashton who is stood behind me.
“This is Ashton. He’s my…friend,” I struggle not knowing how to introduce him because friend doesn’t seem fitting enough for how much he means to me. Then my eyes widen as Ashton speaks up.