Roses for My Mother's Grave, Divorce Papers for Your Funeral - Chapter 82: Chapter 82
You are reading Roses for My Mother's Grave, Divorce Papers for Your Funeral, Chapter 82: Chapter 82. Read more chapters of Roses for My Mother's Grave, Divorce Papers for Your Funeral.
Just when I thought life couldn't possibly get any worse, I got a call from my dad.
My mom was gone.
Heart attack.
Didn't make it.
My dad didn't even know Jace and I had broken up.
In the six years I'd been with Jace, my parents treated him like he was already family.
So of course, my dad called him too.
I didn't have time to deal with all that messy drama—I booked the next train and headed straight back to my hometown.
I was trying to hold it together, balancing the grief of losing my mom and the betrayal from the man I thought I'd marry.
I spent my days comforting my dad, and my nights handling everything for the funeral.
Jace must've felt guilty, because he silently helped me take care of all the small stuff.
I didn't have the energy to deal with him, so I let him tag along.
Free labor, right? Might as well use it.
At my mom's memorial service, his phone kept buzzing non-stop.
He kept declining the calls, and whoever it was just kept calling back.
I guess he was trying really hard to prove something.
Since we'd gotten here, he hadn't taken any of her calls.
He even blocked her, right in front of me.
But I guess Blaire finally snapped after getting ignored for days.
The day after the service, I got a DM from her:
"You really think this is how you keep a man?"
I didn't respond.
And since the app shows when messages are read, I guess my silence pissed her off.
Half an hour later, my phone dinged again:
"Sloane Whittaker, you're gonna regret this."
You know what?
She was right.
I regret not blocking her sooner.
And Blaire? She doesn't bluff.
Minutes later, Jace's phone lit up again.
He looked down, ready to decline like usual—but then he froze.
Whatever he saw turned his face ghost white.
This guy, who'd been glued to my side like a loyal lapdog for days, suddenly jumped up.
"Sloane, something urgent came up. I need to head back."
"I'll come right back after, okay?"
I didn't even look at him.
"If I said no, would you still go?"
He paused.
Three seconds.
That's all.
Then he muttered, "I'm sorry,"
grabbed his coat, and ran out the door.
I watched him leave.
And all I felt was emptiness.
My mom was gone.
Heart attack.
Didn't make it.
My dad didn't even know Jace and I had broken up.
In the six years I'd been with Jace, my parents treated him like he was already family.
So of course, my dad called him too.
I didn't have time to deal with all that messy drama—I booked the next train and headed straight back to my hometown.
I was trying to hold it together, balancing the grief of losing my mom and the betrayal from the man I thought I'd marry.
I spent my days comforting my dad, and my nights handling everything for the funeral.
Jace must've felt guilty, because he silently helped me take care of all the small stuff.
I didn't have the energy to deal with him, so I let him tag along.
Free labor, right? Might as well use it.
At my mom's memorial service, his phone kept buzzing non-stop.
He kept declining the calls, and whoever it was just kept calling back.
I guess he was trying really hard to prove something.
Since we'd gotten here, he hadn't taken any of her calls.
He even blocked her, right in front of me.
But I guess Blaire finally snapped after getting ignored for days.
The day after the service, I got a DM from her:
"You really think this is how you keep a man?"
I didn't respond.
And since the app shows when messages are read, I guess my silence pissed her off.
Half an hour later, my phone dinged again:
"Sloane Whittaker, you're gonna regret this."
You know what?
She was right.
I regret not blocking her sooner.
And Blaire? She doesn't bluff.
Minutes later, Jace's phone lit up again.
He looked down, ready to decline like usual—but then he froze.
Whatever he saw turned his face ghost white.
This guy, who'd been glued to my side like a loyal lapdog for days, suddenly jumped up.
"Sloane, something urgent came up. I need to head back."
"I'll come right back after, okay?"
I didn't even look at him.
"If I said no, would you still go?"
He paused.
Three seconds.
That's all.
Then he muttered, "I'm sorry,"
grabbed his coat, and ran out the door.
I watched him leave.
And all I felt was emptiness.
End of Roses for My Mother's Grave, Divorce Papers for Your Funeral Chapter 82. Continue reading Chapter 83 or return to Roses for My Mother's Grave, Divorce Papers for Your Funeral book page.