I pulled at my itchy black dress while the funeral procession slowly moved past me. I shed a slow tear as the casket passed by; I was barely eye level with the flowers adorning the bottom. I stared at them to busy myself, to direct my attention away from the dead body of my father passing by me.
They were quite pretty—white roses, a few pink ones I couldn't name, and sunflowers. My dad always loved sunflowers. He would bring bouquets of them home for mom a lot: most Tuesdays, holidays, every time he had been away for more than a week. He would walk through the front door and lift her up in his arms, twirling her around before presenting her with a fresh bouquet of sunflowers. Mom loved getting sunflowers.
I felt someone slowly grasp my hand, and I looked up, my daze broken. Mom slowly rubbed her thumb in circles on my small palm, comforting me. Her gaze was fixed on the casket, a black veil shielding her eyes from me.
I turned my head back, staring at the trees around us as some distant relative went to a podium and said nice things about my dad. For a moment I thought I saw a figure standing out among the trees, watching me: but in an instant it was gone, leaving only me, the somber crowd of people, the trees, and the tombstone. I closed my eyes, trying to picture his face one last time...
When I opened my eyes, I stood at the end of an empty, dark hallway, the only light coming from the crack under a door far behind me. The figure on the other side of the hall crossed to me in a flash, and I stood still as he crushed me in an embrace, running his hands along my sides as I wrapped my arms around his neck. Our lips met, and our bodies melted together, fitting together like puzzle pieces.
"Gracie, I..." the man said, breaking our kiss, his face hidden in shadows.
"Let me see your face," I said softly, the hallway fading away around us. "Theo, let me see your face."
The man holding me in his arms sighed. "Gracie, it's time to wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wa—"
"Wake up, baby, it's me," Theo said, caressing my hair slowly with his left hand, my head laying on his lap.
"What were you dreaming about? You kept murmuring nonsense about sunflowers and shadows," he said as I sat up, rubbing my head.
"Oh nothing. The same one as yesterday, about the—"
"The gunshot wound, I remember," Theo said, nodding as he pulled me into a hug.
I had lied to him. I spent most of Saturday sleeping and watching movies with Theo, and after every nap he would ask me what I had been murmuring about.
The problem is, every time he woke me up right before the shadowed man revealed his name. I had thought about telling Theo, but how could I tell him if I wasn't even certain that the man I was passionately kissing in my dreams was him?
"So what do you want to do today? It's already about one in the afternoon," I said, snuggling against his chest.
"Well, I certainly have a few ideas," he said, stroking his hand down my side to rest on my hip. I laughed and rolled my eyes.
"All we've done all weekend is sit around and make out. I'm rested, slightly less traumatized and ready to do something," I said, standing up and stretching.
"So you think our make out sessions are trash, huh?" He said as I went over to my makeup drawer, searching for the right shade of pink to adorn my lips.
"I never said that, only that I'm ready for something new," I said, picking a tube of lipstick and turning around only to find Theo staring down at me.
YOU ARE READING
How to Keep a Secret
Romance"I know your type," he said, piercing me with his unwavering gaze, as if daring me to contradict him. "My type?" "You don't know where you're going, or what you want to do with your life. And yet you have such potential," he said, suddenly leaning f...
