The Funeral That Ended Us

On the day of my mother's funeral, I sat outside the chapel, crying so hard I could barely stand. Three days earlier, my father had told me she'd died in a car accident. He said her body was so badly damaged that I shouldn't see it. I wouldn't be able to handle it. I believed him. I put on a black dress and sat beside her casket all night. Ten minutes before the cremation, my phone buzzed. A notification popped up for a hotel livestream. I opened it and froze. My mother was on the screen in an evening gown, smiling as my younger sister, Nina Whitmore, handed her a glass of champagne. My father sat beside her, his eyes red. "From now on, Nina doesn't have to live in Evelyn's shadow or suffer in silence." My brother smiled and dropped a set of keys into Nina's hand. "The condo is yours now. Adrian is inside waiting for you." My whole body went stiff. Adrian Cole had been my fiancé for eight years. He was supposed to be here with me, mourning my mother. The camera shifted, and there he was, standing in the condo doorway and brushing a hand over Nina's hair. I'd sold the little cottage my grandmother, Rose Bennett, had left me just to afford the down payment on that condo. Only last night, Adrian had held me and said, "Once your mom's funeral is over, we'll move in." Now he was holding my sister and telling her something else. "Don't cry. This is our home now." Then I heard footsteps behind me. I turned around. My mother stood in the chapel doorway, still wearing the same evening gown from the livestream. The smile on her face hadn't even fully faded. "Evelyn, I had no other choice. Your sister has loved Adrian since she was little. Adrian already gave you eight years. Can't you let Nina have him now?" I looked at the black-and-white portrait surrounded by flowers. The woman in that photo had such a warm, gentle smile. But the woman standing in front of me had just buried me alive. 1 The funeral chapel was so quiet that even the faint hiss of the candle flames seemed loud. Three days ago, my father told me the crash was bad. He said he'd handled all the paperwork and all I had to do was sit through the vigil. Don't look. Don't ask. I cried until I was dizzy. I never even looked at the death certificate. The casket was empty beneath its white cloth. My father had told me her body was too badly damaged for me to see. He warned me not to open it. There was no cremation authorization. There had never been one. My father, Robert Whitmore, had simply rented the chapel. As far as the staff knew, we were holding a memorial service. No one was getting cremated. Even the countdown was fake. My father had made up the "ten minutes before the cremation" and sent it to me himself. The hotel stream hadn't been live either. By the time the video reached my phone, they were already sitting in the funeral home parking lot, waiting for me to see it. My mother, Carol Whitmore, stood in the gown I had helped her pick out, surrounded by white wreaths. She bent down and brushed a spot of candle wax from the hem. I grabbed the flower stand and forced myself to my feet. "Worried about the stain? Do you know I kept candles burning for you all night? I sat beside an empty casket until morning, thinking you were dead." My father's face darkened. "That's enough! Your mother is trying to keep this family together. Don't you get that?" My brother, Grant Whitmore, stepped in front of her. "Nina has waited a long time. Do you have to make things hard for everyone?" Adrian came running in with a boutonniere still pinned to his chest. He saw me in my black mourning dress and froze. Then he rushed over and crouched in front of me. "Why are your legs so cold? You sat here all night. Why didn't you ask someone to stay with you?" His palm rested against my calf, so warm it almost made me cry. He lowered his voice. "Take off the black dress." I pulled my leg back. "Do you actually feel sorry for me, or are you just afraid I'll scare Nina?" I stared at him. "You knew they were lying to me, didn't you?" He didn't answer for a long moment. "All they told me was to keep you away because your mom had gone to the hospital. How was I supposed to know they'd do something like this?" I didn't look away. "And the wedding?" Adrian swallowed hard. "They told me it wouldn't be real. "They said Nina's depression was back. She'd swallowed a bottle of pills a few days ago and had been crying nonstop since she woke up. "She said she'd spent her whole life in your shadow. Even the man she loved had chosen you first. "Grant said she couldn't take another blow. "He asked me to fake the wedding. No paperwork. No announcement. No marriage license. "Just enough to get her through this. "Once she was better, we'd explain everything." I laughed. "So you said yes." Adrian looked at me and lowered his voice. "I thought you'd be mad for a few days and then get over it. "Evelyn, you've always been the reasonable one. "I figured once it was over, I'd make it up to you. I didn't know they'd make you hold your mother's funeral." I looked at the wall of white flowers. "But you knew the moment you walked in here. I sat here all night. When you saw me, you were still more worried about Nina being scared. Adrian, you chose their side." Carol burst into tears. "Evelyn, I had no choice. Nina has loved Adrian since she was a child. You know that." Adrian held out the invoice. "You booked this funeral chapel. Go cancel everything. Don't turn your mom and Nina into some kind of spectacle." I looked at him. "You want me to clean up this mess for you?" He looked away. "Isn't it great that your mom is alive? Do you really have to keep this funeral going?" A funeral home attendant appeared in the doorway. "Ma'am, do you still want the portrait up?" Adrian lowered his voice. "Evelyn, just take the photo down." In the black-and-white photo, Mom's smile was gentle and kind. Carol frowned at her photo. "Don't ruin it. That's a good picture of me." My hand shook, and the frame bumped against the flower stand. Adrian caught my arm. "Easy." I shook him off and took the portrait down myself. The frame was cold against my chest. 2 Holding that photo, I finally understood something. The mother I'd mourned all night really was gone. I carried the portrait toward the door. Adrian asked, "Where are you going?" "To get my things." He called out to me. "If you show up at the condo dressed like that, you'll scare Nina." I turned around. "Then tell her not to look." Adrian's face hardened. "Don't push it." A minute ago, he had been worried about me. But the moment I mentioned Nina, that worry vanished. When I got to the condo, my password didn't work. I tried it three times. Nothing. Then the door opened. Nina stood there wearing my beige slippers. Adrian had bought those slippers for me. He used to complain whenever I went barefoot. He'd tell me the floor was too cold and I'd get sick. Now Nina was wearing them. There was a cake in the living room with "Nina, Welcome Home" written across it. In the primary bedroom, my clothes were gone. Our photo had been replaced by a wedding photo of Adrian and Nina. Adrian came out carrying a mug of warm water with honey. He used to make that for me whenever my stomach hurt. Now it was for Nina. I asked, "Where are my things?" Nina pointed toward the entryway. "Evelyn, I had the housekeeper pack them up for you." Three black garbage bags sat there, stuffed with my nightgowns, sketches, old photos, and the scarf I was halfway through knitting for Adrian. I crouched down to pick them up. Adrian glanced at Nina before frowning. "Who told you to put her things in garbage bags?" Nina's eyes filled with tears. "I only wanted to pack them up for her." "Don't touch her things." For one stupid second, the ice inside me began to melt. Then Adrian picked up the album. "Nina didn't mean anything by it. I'll apologize for her." I asked, "And the condo?" Nina grabbed his arm. "Maybe I should move out. I don't want Evelyn to be homeless because of me." Adrian answered immediately, "You're not moving." I said, "My brother told me the condo is already in her name." Adrian's face stiffened. "Grant lied about that. The title hasn't been transferred. He just said that to make Nina happy." I looked at him. "So you knew that was a lie too?" Adrian avoided my eyes. "The title is still in my name. But I changed the lock and made Nina the main contact with building management. She's staying here tonight." So the condo was still legally his. But that hadn't stopped them from changing the locks and removing me from everything else. They'd already erased me from my own home. I asked, "Then where do I live?" "I'll book you a hotel." He paused, then added, "I'll stay with you tonight." "She gets the condo, and I get a hotel?" "Don't put it like that." "Then you put it." Adrian reached out to touch my hair. "She stays here for now. You stay with me. Okay? You still have me." Whatever dignity I had left shattered. He said, "The money from your grandmother's cottage, I'll pay back every cent." "I didn't lend you that money. I put it toward our home." Adrian was quiet for a moment. "The condo is in my name." When we bought it, he'd held me and said we'd be married soon. He said it didn't matter whose name was on the title. Apparently, it mattered now. Adrian grabbed my arm. "You look terrible. Go to the hotel." I shook him off. His patience finally snapped. "Evelyn, I already promised I'd stay with you tonight. What else do you want? I'm still yours." Nina choked out through her tears, "Then should I just give Adrian back to you?" Adrian grabbed her hand immediately. "Nonsense." His answer came so fast, I couldn't even bring myself to laugh. I bent down to gather my things. One of the bags tore, and the album fell open to a photo of my grandmother's cottage. That cottage was gone. I thought I had traded it for a home. Instead, I'd given away the last place that had ever truly been mine. 3 I picked up the torn bags and walked out. Adrian followed me for a few steps. "I'll text you the hotel address." I didn't turn around. "Adrian, after eight years together, did you ever stop to think that I could get hurt too?" He didn't answer. The keypad lock beeped behind me. I wasn't just locked out of the condo. I was locked out of my own life. By the next morning, the family group chat had exploded. Someone had posted a video of me in my black mourning dress, demanding to know why my mother was still alive. Everything that happened before that had been cut out. They kept only the moment I finally snapped. "You might as well have let me finish burying her." Nina posted online claiming I couldn't accept that she and Adrian were together. She said our mother was perfectly fine and that I'd staged a funeral because I wanted her dead. Our relatives immediately turned on me. I tried to explain, but then a second video appeared. In the video, Nina was crying, saying she'd give Adrian back to me, while I stood silently amid the mess. Nobody saw the garbage bags. Nobody heard Adrian say the condo was in his name. Adrian finally said something. I thought he would tell everyone the truth. Instead, he wrote, "Evelyn isn't a bad person. She's just been under a lot of stress lately. Please stop attacking her." Someone asked, "Should we take Evelyn to a psychiatrist?" Adrian didn't answer for a long time. Finally, he replied, "I'll arrange it." He hadn't defended me. He'd made everything worse. Now everyone thought I really was losing my mind. A minute later, he messaged me privately. "I covered for you. Stop making a scene." I wrote back, "Did you cover for me or cover up the truth?" Adrian only wrote, "Evelyn. Be sensible." A knock came at the door. When I opened it, Adrian was standing there with a cup of warm milk. I asked, "Was that you posting in the group?" "I was helping you." "By making everyone think I'm crazy?" He held the cup toward me. "Don't make yourself sick just to get back at me. You know I'll end up being the one worrying about you." I looked at the cup. "If you care so much, why not tell the truth?" "Telling the truth now would only make things worse. Nina is already scared." "She's scared, so she gets to edit videos to make me look insane? She gets to live in my condo? And what about me? Where were you when I was scared?" Adrian looked at me, exhausted. "You're different." There it was again. You're different. Which apparently meant I could take whatever they did to me. I was always the one expected to give in. "Did you come here to comfort me, or did they send you to shut me up?" He lowered his head and rubbed his forehead. "I'm begging you. Just don't make a scene today. Let them have today. Can you do that?" "And what if I can't get through today?" "I'll stay with you tonight. We'll get through it together." I left the family group chat right in front of him. He saw it and sighed with relief. His phone rang. It was Nina. He picked up, and his voice softened immediately. "Nina, don't cry. I didn't scold her. Yeah, she's already left the group. I'm coming back now." I asked quietly, "Are you still coming back tonight?" He smiled and promised, "I'll come. When have I ever lied to you?" After the door closed, I slid down the wall. My lower stomach ached with a dull, heavy pain. My boss at the studio messaged me. The video had made its way into one of our client's project channels. Someone asked whether our team could still guarantee the project would run smoothly with a designer who was mentally unstable. A few minutes later, my boss told me to stay off the next few projects. "We'll talk once this blows over." My mother was alive. But my home, the man I loved, and my reputation were all gone. Adrian didn't come that night. At two in the morning, he messaged me. "Nina just fell asleep. Don't wait up. Remember to eat breakfast. Take care of yourself." I ran to the bathroom and threw up until my vision blurred. As I gripped the sink, one thought suddenly hit me. My period was late. Very late. 4 When the test results came back, Dr. Laura Hayes glanced up at me. "Seven weeks pregnant." Adrian used to hold me and talk about having a baby once we moved into our new home. Laura frowned and said, "You're bleeding, and your progesterone is low. You're at risk of miscarriage. We need to admit you immediately." The nurse asked, "Do you have any family here with you?" I gave them Adrian's number anyway. Half an hour later, he rushed into the emergency room. He saw the results and froze. "You're pregnant?" He reached for my stomach but stopped halfway. Then he crouched in front of me and took my hands. "Evelyn, we're having a baby." His eyes turned red. "And I treated you like that. I'm an asshole." I could tell he meant it. But I also knew all it would take was one call from Nina to pull him away. The nurse brought over the admission form. Adrian was about to go pay when his phone rang. It was Nina. He declined the call. It rang again. He declined it again. The third call came from Mom. He answered, and his face changed. "I'm on my way." He hung up and said, "Nina locked herself in the bedroom. She's got a bottle of sleeping pills. She hasn't taken any yet. She says she can't breathe in there because it was supposed to be our room." She was crying in the bedroom I had decorated with my own hands. And Adrian was already desperate to leave. "Evelyn, let me check on her. I won't be long." Laura cut in. "Evelyn can't leave, and she shouldn't be alone for long. If the bleeding gets worse, things could get dangerous very quickly." Adrian nodded. "I understand." Then he put the admission form back into my hands. "Go get checked in. I'll be back in half an hour." I looked at him. "And if something happens to me or the baby in that half hour?" He hesitated. But then Nina's hoarse crying came through the phone again. "Adrian, I'm so scared." I reminded him. "The doctor just said I could be in danger." Adrian's patience began to wear thin. "You're already at the hospital. You're surrounded by doctors and nurses. Nina has no one with her, and I'm the only person she'll listen to." I looked down at my stomach. "And the baby?" Adrian was silent for a second. "The baby's still inside you. It's not going anywhere." "Adrian, if you walk out that door, I won't wait for you again." Panic flashed across his face, but not enough to change his mind. "Come on. Don't say things like that. When I get back, you can yell at me. Hit me all you want." He bent down and kissed my forehead. Then he grabbed his coat and ran off to another woman. The moment the door shut, a sharp pain tore through my lower stomach. I pushed myself out of the chair and reached for the call button. The chair scraped across the floor as another cramp hit me. Then I felt something warm running down my leg. Blood. I opened my mouth to call for help, but everything went black. When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. The nurse saw my hand move to my stomach, and her eyes softened. "Don't move around." My throat was dry, but I managed to speak. "The baby?" She didn't answer right away. "You lost too much blood. We couldn't save the baby." I looked at the ceiling and didn't cry. Whatever was left between Adrian and me died with our baby. The surgical consent form lay on the bedside table. My signature was on the line meant for a family member. Evelyn Whitmore. There had been no one else. Near dawn, Adrian finally called. I didn't pick up. Helen Brooks, the director of the overseas project, messaged me. "Ms. Whitmore, the on-site assignment closes tonight. If you confirm, we'll book your flight tomorrow morning." Six months earlier, I had turned down that offer because Adrian said we would start a family of our own. I replied, "Confirmed." Laura wanted me to stay another two days for observation. I refused. She looked at me for a long moment, then had me sign a waiver. She packed my medication and follow-up paperwork into a bag. No one came to pick me up when I was discharged. I folded the test results, the surgical record, and the admission form I never used and slipped them into my passport holder. On the way to the airport, Adrian called me twenty-seven times. Before boarding, he sent me a message. "Evelyn, Nina is fine now. Where are you? I'll come get you." I turned off my phone. As the plane climbed into the clouds, the city lights disappeared below me. I thought I would cry. But all I did was rest a hand on my now-empty stomach. There was nothing there anymore. Eleven hours later, the plane landed. My phone connected to the network, and countless missed calls filled the screen.