He Forgot The Pad That Saved My Dignity And I Used It To End Us Chapter 04
Early on the second morning of the wake, the phone on the mantelpiece shrilled through the silence.
It was Hazel.
“Selena! Where the hell are you?” she demanded the second I answered. “Why aren’t you in Boston yet?!”
Her voice was tight with frustration and barely concealed panic.
“Killian sent a driver to wait for you at the gas station first thing this morning. We spent forever picking out the perfect bridesmaid dress for you!”
I slowly lifted my gaze to the framed black-and-white photograph beside Grandpa’s casket.
In the photo, he was young, wearing a weathered cowboy hat and smiling with the same gentle kindness I had known my entire life.
My grip tightened around the phone.
My fingers trembled uncontrollably.
“Hazel, I…”
Suddenly, a burst of commotion erupted on the other end.
Then another voice came on the line.
“Selena.”
Killian had taken the phone from her.
His voice was still soft, still familiar, but there was an edge to it I had never heard before.
Anger.
“Even if you’re upset, this isn’t the way to handle it,” he said. “You don’t get to take your frustration out on our wedding. Hazel’s gone out of her way to prepare everything for you. What exactly are you trying to prove?”
I stayed silent.
It took everything I had to keep my emotions under control.
“You can’t keep doing this,” he continued. “Whatever issue you have with me is between us. But Hazel genuinely cares about you. She’s been nothing but considerate and accommodating. Haven’t you dragged this out long enough?”
Through the phone, I could faintly hear the romantic wedding music playing inside an upscale bridal boutique.
I turned my head.
Across from me, funeral candles flickered in the dim living room, their glow dancing across the dark drapery surrounding Grandpa’s casket.
My voice sounded hollow, almost lifeless.
“My grandfather died.”
The line went eerily silent.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Hazel’s sharp, irritated voice broke through.
“Oh, come on, Selena. If you don’t want to be a bridesmaid, at least come up with a better excuse. Last month you used your grandfather as an excuse too, remember? You said you had to go back home and visit him, but you were obviously just…”
“He passed away last night.”
I cut her off coldly.
“I’m kneeling in front of his casket right now.”
This time, complete silence followed.
A suffocating silence.
Several long moments passed before Killian finally spoke again.
His voice had darkened.
“Selena,” he said stiffly, “using someone’s death to make a point is way out of line. This is your last warning. Come back immediately, or I won’t forgive you again.”
Click.
The call ended.
I stared at the dead screen for a second before casually tossing the phone into the nearby trash can.
Then I picked up the scissors and went back to trimming the white lilies the neighbors had brought.
Every so often, one of the candles crackled softly.
A tiny spark would leap from the wick and land against the black fabric of my mourning dress, leaving behind a pale mark.
By evening, the stillness outside was shattered by the roar of an engine.
Loud.
Aggressive.
Completely out of place.
In a remote farming town like this, where life moved at the pace of rustling wheat fields and distant tractor engines, a luxury sports car was practically unheard of.
Along with the engine came the metallic clatter of something dragging across the gravel road.
Numbly, I turned toward the window.
A sleek black supercar had pulled up outside the weathered farmhouse.
The irony hit me immediately.
Pink wedding ribbons were tied across the rear bumper in oversized bows.
A string of empty tin cans rattled behind the vehicle, bouncing across the gravel in celebration.
Above the license plate was a shiny gold decal.
[JUST MARRIED.]
The front gate creaked open.
Killian stepped into the yard first.
He was still wearing his custom-tailored tuxedo.
A groom’s boutonniere remained pinned to his lapel.
Even his burgundy tie looked freshly adjusted.
Beside him, Hazel wore a glamorous burgundy satin evening gown.
A white bridal veil still rested atop her carefully styled hair.
Neither of them had even changed clothes.
It looked as though they had left their wedding ceremony and driven straight here without stopping.
The moment they stepped through the gate, both of them froze.
Inside the dim farmhouse, black funeral drapes hung from the walls.
Grandpa’s black-and-white portrait stood quietly at the center of the room.
An old record player in the corner continued spinning a slow, mournful hymn.
On one side stood me.
Dressed entirely in black.
A mourning veil covered my hair as I kept vigil beside my grandfather’s casket.
On the other side stood a newly married couple.
Still dressed for celebration.
Still carrying the joy of their wedding day.
The contrast was brutal.
Almost unbearable.
Hazel’s smile vanished instantly.
She grabbed Killian’s sleeve with trembling fingers.
Killian’s face turned ghostly white.
He opened his mouth as if to speak.
No words came out.
I looked at them calmly.
Then I said,
“You should leave.”
My voice was quiet.
Cold as frozen ground.
“We’re holding a funeral. This isn’t exactly the place for wedding celebrations.”
Hazel burst into tears.
Terrified, she stumbled backward and clutched Killian’s arm.
“Killian… oh my God… let’s go. Please. Let’s just leave. This place is freaking me out…”
But Killian didn’t move.
He stood there like a statue.
Staring at Grandpa’s portrait.
Staring at the frayed hem of my black dress where it had worn thin from hours of kneeling.
Staring at the empty farmhouse.
No visitors.
No relatives.
No friends.
Just me.
Alone.
Keeping vigil beside my grandfather.
“Selena…”
His voice was hoarse.
Broken.
Filled with the crushing realization of something he should have understood long ago.
“Get out.”
I knelt back down and continued arranging the white flowers in front of the casket.
“Grandpa always liked peace and quiet,” I said softly. “He isn’t receiving visitors.”
At last, Hazel managed to pull him toward the door.
Before the gate closed, he turned back one final time.
“After the funeral…” he said, his voice shaking. “Selena, please. Let me talk to you.”
The sports car’s engine roared back to life.
The rattling tin cans followed.
Gradually, the noise faded into the distance until it disappeared beyond the endless fields.
Silence returned to the farmhouse.
The same suffocating silence as before.
I knelt beside Grandpa’s casket.
The candlelight cast a warm glow across the gentle smile in his photograph.
“Grandpa…”
My fingers brushed across the cold oak lid.
At last, the tears came.
Quiet.
Steady.
Unstoppable.
“From now on…”
I rested my forehead against the casket.
“There’s nobody left in this world who truly cares about me.”
My voice cracked.
“So from now on…”
A tear slipped down my cheek.
“I’m going to be the one who does.”
