Granting One Last Wish novel Chapter 6

ABBY

Dad settled for only two days' funeral.  I'm wearing white instead of black, showing that I'm not here to mourn. I'm here to celebrate her life, her legacy, and she may be gone, but she will always remain in my heart. I don't recognize most of the people who pay her respect. I hate every word they said.

Wreaths are everywhere in different colors, designs, and sizes. From politicians, movie industries, charity organizations, businessmen, and powerful people have arrived. Some stayed long and some leave immediately.

I kept my head down. Dad wants me to keep it that way, and he wants me to have a normal life away from the scrutiny of public eyes. I know one day I can't stay in my loophole forever. One day the world will know me.

I want to go home, and I feel sick in here. I don't like attention, and this is the reason why I am who I am today. It changed my whole life forever. I spotted Dad talking to one of his friends.

"Dad, I can have a moment with you, please?" The couples look at me with sadness in their eyes. My eyes widen when I look at them. They must be Seb's parents--he resemblance. Seb's got his hair and eyes from his father, and his nose and lips are from his mom. They're both tall and fit, and his mom has dimples too.

"You must be Abby?" before I can answer, Mrs. Hughes tackles me to a hug, and she starts to sniff.

"The last time I saw you, you were still so young, and now look at you now. You grow up to be a beautiful young woman. Catie must be so proud of you." I give her a tight smile but I can't remember I met her before.

"Thank you for coming here today," I say politely.

The next thing I know Mr. Hughes is next giving me a bear hug, then Dad excuses us both.

"What is it, pumpkin?" Dad gloomy eyes bear into me, and he holds my arms.

"Dad, first, I'm not a kid anymore, and stop calling me pumpkin in front of people. You can start calling me by my name, please?"

"Sweetheart, you will always be my baby girl. Old or not, you'll always be my pumpkin."

"Dad, it's annoying, you know." I look down at my shoes.

"You don't want me to call you in front of Seb and his parents or you don't want me to call you pumpkin at all. It seems that my daughter has grown up."

I roll my eyes. "Dad, we're at mom's funeral. What is it with Seb and his family? I did mention people, Dad."

"I love you, pumpkin."

I wrinkle my nose. Before I forget what I'm going to tell him, I hold his hands.

"Sweetheart, if this is about the eulogy, you don't have to. I will never force you when you're not ready for something like this. I understand that you don't know most of these people. The truth is, you never met 90% of them before. I've been keeping you safe for a long time, and I'm a little bit paranoid when it comes to your safety, and I can't jeopardize it for just a few minutes. For all I know, they might be somewhere near us. Don't trust anyone here. I lost your mom already, and I don't wanna lose you too."

"You'll never lose me again, I promise. You're the only family I have left. I can't afford to lose another one, too. I love you, Dad."

I get back to my seat. I smell the familiar scent from yesterday, and the tingling sensation spread throughout my body faster than I can hold my breath, and now it's spreading between my thighs. I know he's closer to me. I kept reminding myself that I'm at my mother's funeral, and I feel like an empathetic bitch for having this feeling.

I have a lot of issues to handle than to give attention to this tension between me and him.

I don't socialize with people, but when he is near me, it feels like there's a promise that everything will be okay. I know this is crazy, and I don't know anything about him. And the million-dollar question is, does he feel the same towards me? Definitely not. Absolutely not.

Get a grip, Abby. For God's sake.

My palms start to sweat. Drew is glaring at me, but I cut him with I-am-okay-look. I move closer to Drew just to lean my head on his shoulder, but before it happens, someone sits beside me--the same person I'm trying to avoid--the same person that sends a shiver down my spine, takes my breath away, makes my lips dry, and gives me a fluttering feeling in my stomach.

"You okay, Abby?" He must have noticed my discomfort. He looks at me and searches for something on my face, "You look so pale. You need to rest. Did you even sleep or eat before coming over here?"

I can't help but look at him, and I have swallow hard. "Y-yeah. I'm...um. I'm fine." Way to go, Abby.