After blocking Scott, I found myself at my mother’s grave. I traced her name on the cold stone, the reality of her absence sinking in. My mother had been a constant in my life, especially after my father passed. She had wanted to see me married to Scott, but that dream died with her.
As I stood there, Scott appeared, with Winona at his side. She clutched an urn to her chest. “This place is near my den. If I bury my baby here, it’s like he never left,” she whispered, speaking of her pet dog.
I was ready to leave, to avoid any confrontation, but Scott blocked my path. “Are you following me?” he asked, his voice laced with suspicion.
“No,” I replied, my voice tired. “I’m just leaving.”
Winona’s voice broke the tense silence. “My puppy died, and Scott stayed with me for the funeral. Don’t misunderstand,” she said, her words sharp despite her sweet tone.
“Good for you,” I muttered, refusing to let her get under my skin.
“Ariana,” Scott scolded. “Can’t you be sympathetic? Winona is in pain.”
I stared at him, unable to believe what I was hearing. I had given him everything, yet here he was, defending her. “I don’t need this,” I said, turning to leave.