Stand-In Heiress's Last Sunflower Blooms in Graveyards - Chapter 23: Chapter 23
You are reading Stand-In Heiress's Last Sunflower Blooms in Graveyards, Chapter 23: Chapter 23. Read more chapters of Stand-In Heiress's Last Sunflower Blooms in Graveyards.
Timothy drove straight from the hotel to Skylar's grave.
He stared at the photo on her headstone—a young girl with the brightest smile, radiant and full of life.
Timothy sat cross-legged in front of the grave, tracing her face in the photograph with his thumb.
"Skylar, I almost got married on the anniversary of your death."
"I know that makes me a complete asshole. I tried so hard to forget you and move on. If that's what you really wanted."
"But when I was standing at that altar, all I could see was you. That's when I knew—I can't let you go."
His eyes were bloodshot.
"Skylar, what the hell am I supposed to do? Get another memory wipe? Forget you again, just to remember you at someone else's wedding? By then I'd be some woman's husband, some kid's father."
"That's not fair to them."
He pressed his palm against the cold stone: "Skylar, I promise—after today, I won't come back anymore."
When Kevin went to apologize to Tina, she was surprisingly understanding: "It was just a blind date. No harm done."
Tina watched snow falling outside the coffee shop window.
She smiled sadly: "Better to know now than later, right?"
When Kevin went to chew Timothy out, he couldn't get him to answer his door.
Timothy's phone kept ringing inside the apartment.
Kevin called for backup immediately. When they broke down the door, Timothy was lying peacefully on his couch.
Skylar's photograph was clutched against his chest.
A note on the coffee table read: "Leave everything to the Leukemia Research Foundation."
This time Kevin didn't call 911. Because this time there were five empty bottles of sleeping pills scattered across the table.
This time, Timothy hadn't left room for rescue.
Timothy had no family, so his fellow officers arranged the funeral.
Kevin buried Timothy's ashes in the southern section of the cemetery, as close as possible to where sunflowers would bloom in spring.
Kevin walked over to Skylar's grave.
His eyes stung with unshed tears. He'd seen cops die in shootouts, but never one who couldn't survive his own broken heart.
He couldn't tell if Timothy had loved too deeply, or if the world had just beaten him down too many times.
He studied the smiling girl in the photograph.
"Skylar, I guess you've seen Timothy by now."
His voice broke: "When you do, tell him he was a lousy cop for pulling this shit."
He started to walk away like he was scolding a child.
But after a few steps, he turned back to the headstone.
Tears ran down his face: "But if there's another life after this one, I hope to God he gets born into a family that actually gives a damn about him."
Kevin never told anyone about Timothy's weekly pilgrimages.
After Skylar died, Timothy had moved to Portugal and climbed the 583 steps to Bom Jesus do Monte every single week.
The sanctuary was famous for granting peace to departed souls. Believers who climbed the stone steps on their knees could pray for their loved ones in the afterlife.
Timothy was terrified that with so many pilgrims seeking miracles, his prayers for Skylar might go unheard.
So he went religiously. Kevin would fly out to Portugal once a month to check on him, and every time Timothy would show up to their meetings limping, his pants stained with blood.
Kevin had seen the damage firsthand—wounds that never fully healed because Timothy kept tearing them open, crawling up those ancient steps until bone showed through shredded skin.
Kevin tried everything to stop him. He'd argued, pleaded, even threatened to have Timothy committed. But Timothy would just look at him with those hollow eyes and say, "She needs to know someone's still praying for her."
By the end, Kevin was making those monthly trips as much to talk Timothy out of the ledge as to check on his destroyed knees.
Kevin turned back one last time and placed sunflowers—Skylar's favorites—on her grave.
Wind scattered the golden petals, carrying them toward the distant mountains where the sanctuary waited.
At Bom Jesus do Monte, hundreds of prayer locks covered the iron railings outside the chapel, each one engraved with the same desperate wish:
*"Skylar Madden—may your next life be long and blessed."*
He stared at the photo on her headstone—a young girl with the brightest smile, radiant and full of life.
Timothy sat cross-legged in front of the grave, tracing her face in the photograph with his thumb.
"Skylar, I almost got married on the anniversary of your death."
"I know that makes me a complete asshole. I tried so hard to forget you and move on. If that's what you really wanted."
"But when I was standing at that altar, all I could see was you. That's when I knew—I can't let you go."
His eyes were bloodshot.
"Skylar, what the hell am I supposed to do? Get another memory wipe? Forget you again, just to remember you at someone else's wedding? By then I'd be some woman's husband, some kid's father."
"That's not fair to them."
He pressed his palm against the cold stone: "Skylar, I promise—after today, I won't come back anymore."
When Kevin went to apologize to Tina, she was surprisingly understanding: "It was just a blind date. No harm done."
Tina watched snow falling outside the coffee shop window.
She smiled sadly: "Better to know now than later, right?"
When Kevin went to chew Timothy out, he couldn't get him to answer his door.
Timothy's phone kept ringing inside the apartment.
Kevin called for backup immediately. When they broke down the door, Timothy was lying peacefully on his couch.
Skylar's photograph was clutched against his chest.
A note on the coffee table read: "Leave everything to the Leukemia Research Foundation."
This time Kevin didn't call 911. Because this time there were five empty bottles of sleeping pills scattered across the table.
This time, Timothy hadn't left room for rescue.
Timothy had no family, so his fellow officers arranged the funeral.
Kevin buried Timothy's ashes in the southern section of the cemetery, as close as possible to where sunflowers would bloom in spring.
Kevin walked over to Skylar's grave.
His eyes stung with unshed tears. He'd seen cops die in shootouts, but never one who couldn't survive his own broken heart.
He couldn't tell if Timothy had loved too deeply, or if the world had just beaten him down too many times.
He studied the smiling girl in the photograph.
"Skylar, I guess you've seen Timothy by now."
His voice broke: "When you do, tell him he was a lousy cop for pulling this shit."
He started to walk away like he was scolding a child.
But after a few steps, he turned back to the headstone.
Tears ran down his face: "But if there's another life after this one, I hope to God he gets born into a family that actually gives a damn about him."
Kevin never told anyone about Timothy's weekly pilgrimages.
After Skylar died, Timothy had moved to Portugal and climbed the 583 steps to Bom Jesus do Monte every single week.
The sanctuary was famous for granting peace to departed souls. Believers who climbed the stone steps on their knees could pray for their loved ones in the afterlife.
Timothy was terrified that with so many pilgrims seeking miracles, his prayers for Skylar might go unheard.
So he went religiously. Kevin would fly out to Portugal once a month to check on him, and every time Timothy would show up to their meetings limping, his pants stained with blood.
Kevin had seen the damage firsthand—wounds that never fully healed because Timothy kept tearing them open, crawling up those ancient steps until bone showed through shredded skin.
Kevin tried everything to stop him. He'd argued, pleaded, even threatened to have Timothy committed. But Timothy would just look at him with those hollow eyes and say, "She needs to know someone's still praying for her."
By the end, Kevin was making those monthly trips as much to talk Timothy out of the ledge as to check on his destroyed knees.
Kevin turned back one last time and placed sunflowers—Skylar's favorites—on her grave.
Wind scattered the golden petals, carrying them toward the distant mountains where the sanctuary waited.
At Bom Jesus do Monte, hundreds of prayer locks covered the iron railings outside the chapel, each one engraved with the same desperate wish:
*"Skylar Madden—may your next life be long and blessed."*
End of Stand-In Heiress's Last Sunflower Blooms in Graveyards Chapter 23. Continue reading Chapter 24 or return to Stand-In Heiress's Last Sunflower Blooms in Graveyards book page.