"Milo’s death hit Claire hard, so I didn’t want her to be alone. Is Matthew mad? Don't worry, I’ll make it up to him. He's sweet, so he'll forgive me."
If he’d cared about us at all, he’d know what happened to his own son by now.
But no, Claire was his priority now.
"You'll make it up to him? Well, news flash! You’ve run out of chances," I said, walking away again.
But he grabbed my arm, sounding surprisingly desperate. "Come on! I’ll pick up Matthew every day if that's what you want. Just don’t be mad."
Andrew, begging for the first time, almost made me laugh. I could have forgiven him if Matthew’s accident hadn’t happened.
But now? No way.
"Want to be with Claire? Go be with Claire. Sign the divorce papers, and stop pestering me," I said, shaking off his hand and walking away for good.
As I left, I could feel his eyes on my back.
"Tricia, get me the best toy you can find. Something fancy, so maybe a transformer! Send it home to my son. Maybe he can help calm his mom down," I heard him ordered.
Did he think he could buy me with that?
Oh, how delusional.
I was almost at the cemetery gate when my phone rang. It was the cemetery manager.
"Miss Emily, someone is digging up your son's grave!"
Those words hit me like a wrecking ball, freezing me in place. My heart pounded in my chest.
Is this really happening?
What kind of person could be so horrible to disturb someone's resting place?
Mad, I spun around and sprinted towards Matthew's grave, everything else forgotten.
Matthew was always so sunny, so cheerful. He loved daisies because he knew they were my favorite. In fact, he promised to fill our backyard with them someday, just to keep me smiling.
He was a thoughtful kid, but he never got the chance to fulfill that dream, so I planted daisies on his grave instead. No tombstone, just a sea of daisies.
He would love them, for sure. And they were my way of keeping his promise alive.
When I got there, I saw Claire. She had already placed an urn into Matthew's grave, with two guards filling it back in.
It was a punch to the gut, of course.
The daisies I'd lovingly planted were torn up and scattered around like they meant nothing. And Matthew's urn? Tossed aside like trash.
"What the hell are you doing?!"
I lunged at them, shoving the bodyguards away.
"Who gave you the right to dig this grave?!"
Claire shrank into Andrew's arms, playing the victim.