Coldhearted Heir - Michelle Heard Page 0,2

gentle and doesn’t belong in such a grim place.

Beside me lays a single poppy, and I notice it’s already wilting. It was Brady’s favorite. When we come to a stop near the gravesite, I carefully take hold of the stem, so I don’t accidentally break the flower.

As I walk toward the already forming crowd, my eyes dart over the gravestones, and each one is a blow to my broken heart.

I’m not ready to say goodbye!

Dad must feel my distress because his arm is around my shoulders before another tear can escape, and he whispers, “I wish I could take your pain, Little Bean.”

I cower against my father’s side as the preacher says some final words, and the coffin is lowered into the hole.

Brady can’t be in there.

But he is. He’s dead and never coming back to me.

The tidal wave robs me of my breath and makes my heart squeeze so painfully, I wonder how it’s still able to beat.

People begin to leave, having said their final goodbye. I force myself forward, and Dad sticks to my side as I kiss the frail petals of the poppy before dropping it on the coffin.

An agonizing sob tears a hole right through my soul as I croak, “I’ll love you forever, Brady.”

I somehow manage to turn to Mrs. Lawson and Colton and weakly wave at them before Dad helps me back to the car.

It’s only been three days, and I’ve barely survived the heartache. How am I going to survive the rest of my life without Brady?

It all sinks in again.

The pain. Feeling lost. The desperation that’s threatening to cripple me.

Every second between each heartbeat is unbearable because it’s another second without him.

Dad called the school and managed to get me out two weeks early before summer break, so instead of heading home after the funeral, we all came to Virginia.

I’m sitting on a bench, my eyes staring blankly over the little pond on the ranch. It’s beautiful and peaceful out here, but right now, I can’t bring myself to appreciate any of it.

I hear footsteps, and then a shadow falls over me before Grandpa sits next to me.

“Hey, kiddo.”

I link my arm through his and holding onto it, I snuggle into his side, resting my head on his shoulder. “Hey, Gramps.”

We sit in silence for a while before I ask the question that’s been weighing heaviest on me, “Why did he do it?”

“He must’ve been in a place so dark he couldn’t find the light.”

I need to talk to someone about the mess in my heart, and Grandpa is the wisest person I know. He’s a retired Navy Seal, and I’m sure he’s seen the dark side of life a couple of times.

“We were happy together. There was an incident at Jase’s party, and Hunter embarrassed Brady. I don’t know what happened when Hunter took Brady home. Colton, Brady’s older brother, said things got bad, and that’s why Brady committed suicide.”

Grandpa lets out a heavy breath before he asks, “Did Hunter and Brady fight?”

“I don’t have the heart to ask Colton what happened, and I don’t want to talk to Hunter.”

“So, you don’t actually know what happened?”

I sit up and scowl at the water. “I can only guess, Gramps. It was serious enough to make Brady feel like he had no other choice.”

Grandpa rubs a hand over his strong jaw, his brows drawn together. “I think you should call Hunter and hear what happened. From my experience, a lot has to happen before someone reaches the point where they feel like death is the only option.”

Deep in thought over what Grandpa said, I nod slightly.

“Dinner is almost ready. Want me to put your plate in the microwave until you’re ready to eat?”

Sometimes I think my grandpa and dad know me better than I know myself. Smiling gratefully at him, I nod. “Please. I want to stay out here a little while longer.”

Grandpa pats my knee before he gets up to walk back to the house. For a while, I watch the last of the sunset before I pull my phone from my pocket. The screen lights up, and right away, my eyes focus on Brady’s smiling face. The blow is so hard it reduces me to a crying mess in seconds.

Clenching the phone to my chest, I startle when it begins to ring. Seeing Fallon’s name, I croak, “Hi.”

“How are you?” There’s only a second’s pause, then she rambles, “Don’t answer that stupid question. I just want you to know I’m here