“She’s here,” a raspy whisper floated from Liam’s lips.
As the family searched for answers, I closed my eyes as the smell of freesias danced past my nose. Liam had crossed over.
Marc gently placed Liam’s arm back on the bed after reading his pulse. “He’s gone.”
While the family broke down, Adam didn’t flinch. He stood there, staring at his grandfather’s lifeless body like he was caught in a trance. As much as I could prepare someone for the loss of a loved one, it still fucking hurt. I had three years to prepare for the inevitable loss of my husband, and the paralyzing grief still swallowed me up whole. My only saving grace was Finn. My light in the darkness. I needed to be that for Adam.
Sidling up beside him, I slipped my hand over his before his fingers turned and engulfed mine. He held on tightly as his head dipped and his lips trembled, but there were no tears. He wouldn’t let them fall.
Soft, classical music filled the room in the absence of voices as the family absorbed the reality of the moment. William Harlow II was gone.
At Liam’s request, I arranged a bottle of his favorite whiskey to be served in the drawing room after his death, and no one dared decline. It was there that I had left three photo albums, personalized to each son and grandson. They contained photographs from Liam’s collection that we’d collated and arranged in chronological order of their lives together, each with a letter.
After assisting Marc and Nora with Liam’s final arrangements, I wandered up to the library, in need of a quiet moment. I curled up on the window seat in time to watch the sky darken over Betty’s picturesque garden. The hedges lit up with twinkling fairy lights, and I gasped at the beauty before me. There was always a spectacle at Harlow Manor, no matter what time of day.
“Gramps loved that view.”
Adam’s voice ripped me out of my spell. I wiped the moisture from my eyes before turning to find him leaning against the doorframe, holding a tulip-shaped glass. “Hey, how’s that whiskey going down?”
He took a sip as he moseyed into the room. “Smooth,” he said with a tipsy smile.
“Liam thought you’d enjoy it.”
“We definitely are.” Adam poured the last drop into his mouth, savoring the taste. “Along with those albums you made.” He moved closer to the window. “I haven’t heard my dad laugh like that in years.”
Warmth filled my heart. “Did you like yours?” I asked, wondering how many drinks he’d had. “I have to admit, youwerepretty cute in your younger years.”
“In my younger years?” His eyebrow rose.
“Oh, come on.” I rolled my eyes. “Cute doesn’t come close to describing you now.”
“Oh yeah?” He plonked himself opposite me on the window seat and swung his legs up between us. “Please…go on.”
“And inflate your ego some more?” I chortled. “Your head will explode.”
His glazed eyes sparkled. “Which head?”
“Adam!” Lava flooded my face.
“Fuck, you’re sexy when you blush.”
“Stop,” I uttered sternly. “You need to go back downstairs and be with your family.”
His head fell back against the wall as he turned his gaze out the window. “Do I have to? It’s too real down there.”
“Adam…”
He refused to meet my gaze.
“It’s going to be tough for a while…for all of you,” I continued. “But you need to let yourself grieve. It’s not healthy to keep it all bottled up inside.”
“Ugh, you’re such a mom,” he moaned, dragging himself off the seat.
“Funny that.”
His grin grew as he backed out of the room. “An…M…I…L…F.”
I pointed to the door. “Go.” I held back a smile. This wasn’t the time to encourage his drunken antics.