TMUW 84: Gun

I stopped walking and looked at the person sitting in front of my parents' tombstone.

I could feel my blood boiling with anger. Even after all these years, I still couldn’t deny that I recognized every detail of Lucas—his build, his movements. I could tell, and I could prove that it was him sitting there.

After all the years we were together, I had memorized his posture. I just didn’t expect that we’d meet today, and in this exact place.

How could he have the nerve to sit right in front of my parents' tombstone when he’s the very reason they’re buried beneath the ground?

As much as I could, I calmed myself while walking closer. I wanted to hurl insults at him, I wanted to hurt him, but out of respect for my parents' resting place, I didn’t.

I was alone; Noah was with Bernadette, and my children were with Noah’s parents. Bernadette wanted to bring the kids along, but Uncle had already taken the twins out for a walk.

"Do you ever think that maybe it should’ve been you who died?"