“It’s all my fault,” he murmured. “I should have done more for her. I should have tried harder. . . .”
Olivia leaned back to look at him. “You can’t blame yourself for her actions, Darius. If she was so determined, you couldn’t have stopped her.”
Tears swam in his eyes, and he drew in a ragged breath. “I keep telling myself that, but I can’t stop feeling guilty.”
A tug on her arm had Olivia looking down.
“My daddy is sad, Miss Olivia.” Sofia wore a tiny frown.
Olivia bent down beside her on the sidewalk. “I know, sweetie. Maybe we can make him a picture to cheer him up.”
That got a smile and a nod.
“I have to go now or I’ll miss the service,” Darius said. He laid a hand on Sofia’s head. “Be good for Miss Olivia, Mouse. I’ll be back in a few hours.” He looked at Olivia. “Thank you again for doing this.”
“No trouble at all.” She forced a bright tone to her voice. “Sofia and I will have fun together.” She hoped for a smile from him, but his features remained grim as he nodded and headed back to the car.
Watching him drive away, Olivia had never felt so torn. Darius shouldn’t have to do this alone. He deserved to have someone by his side to help him face this terrible day. But as she and Sofia entered the house, she comforted herself with the fact that she was doing something to help him by watching his daughter.
After settling the girl at the dining room table with paper and a pencil, Olivia opened the morning paper that sat in the middle of the table. She turned to the obituaries to find the information on Meredith’s funeral. The church wasn’t that far away. Two streetcar stops at most. Her mind whirled until she came to a bold decision. She might not be able to attend the service, but she and Sofia could be waiting for Darius afterward. Seeing two friendly faces might be just what he needed after such a sorrowful morning.
She folded the newspaper and set it down with a decisive slap. “Sofia, honey, how would you like to take a streetcar ride?”
Once the funeral was over, Darius numbly followed the large congregation out of the church, eager to be free of the cloying scent of lilies that permeated the space. Once outside, he inhaled the fresh air, doing his best to ignore the flower-laden casket being loaded into the hearse. The cemetery where Meredith would be buried was on the other side of town, in a plot owned by Horace’s family.
The story the Cheesemans were telling anyone who asked was that Meredith had gone to visit some cousins in Ottawa, and, while there, she contracted a deadly virus.
Only a select few knew the gut-wrenching truth.
A fact that only increased the guilt churning inside him.
If he’d agreed to marry Meredith as he’d intended, she would still be alive. Her child would still be alive. Instead, he’d worn his moral superiority like a righteous cloak and dismissed her plight as a personal affront. Why hadn’t he been more understanding and compassionate, tried harder to help her? Now, instead of celebrating their daughter’s wedding, the Cheesemans were burying their eldest child.
Darius’s tears had flowed freely during the service, especially during the eulogies given by her parents and younger sister. And now, as he descended the church steps, grief ate a hole in his chest.
I’m sorry I failed you, Meredith. You didn’t deserve my anger or my judgment.
When he reached the grassy area below, a hand clapped him on the back.
“Such a shame about the girl,” Mr. Walcott said. “I’m sure this must have come as quite a shock.”
Darius had forgotten his boss planned to attend the funeral. It made sense since he and Horace Cheeseman went back a long way, which was how they’d acquired Mr. Cheeseman’s business in the first place.
“Shock doesn’t begin to describe it,” Darius said quietly. “I still can’t believe someone so young and full of life could be gone so fast.”
Walcott nodded grimly. “I’m heading back to the office, but don’t come in if you’re not feeling up to it.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that.”
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to pay my respects.” Walcott headed over to where the Cheesemans were accepting condolences.
Darius stiffened, bracing for the task that he would have to do as well.
Once Mr. Walcott had spoken with the couple and had headed off, Darius knew he couldn’t delay any longer. With dread roiling his stomach, he approached Meredith’s parents. Sissy leaned on her mother’s arm, weeping quietly. A soft breeze toyed with the dark fabric of the family’s mourning attire. The black netting of Mrs. Cheeseman’s hat barely concealed the grief hugging her features.
“I’m so very sorry for your loss,” he said. “Meredith was . . .” His mind went blank as Mrs. Cheeseman stared daggers at him. “Meredith will be greatly missed.”
His condolences sounded feeble even to his own ears, yet what could he possibly say to ease their pain?
Mr. Cheeseman took him by the arm and stepped out of the fray, seemingly to give them a bit of privacy.
“Thank you for coming, Darius.” Deep grooves were etched in Horace Cheeseman’s face. He appeared to have aged a decade in a matter of weeks.
“I feel terrible, sir. If I hadn’t ended our engagement, things might have turned out so differently.”
Horace let out a tortured breath. “I understand why you did. I likely would’ve done the same thing were I in your shoes.”
Darius’s throat swelled with emotion, and he could only nod. At least Horace didn’t blame him. If only he could grant himself the same absolution.
The crowd around him pressed in to greet the family, forcing Darius aside. He shoved his hands in his pockets and moved out of the way, not sure what to do
