Full Moon Fiancé

Beyond Grief

She awoke and found herself draped over a couch. She blinked and a room the color of warm honey came into focus, family pictures on the walls resolving themselves into their tidy squares around her.

She was laying on a chocolate colored leather couch. A familiar couch. As she stroked the worn leather, letting her surroundings wash over her. She knew this couch, this room, its honey colored walls and its artfully displayed photographs perfectly aligned.

This was the Westerly home, she realized. Home wasn’t quite the word, more of a mansion. An estate. Complete with manicured gardens and a small army of staff who maintained it. The Westerly family made their money in gold prospecting, back when that was a thing. Some of the photographs on the wall behind where she currently lay, she knew, were of Joshua’s ancestors, Theodore and Waverly Westerly, standing on the spot where they had found a fortune in gold.

Diana stood on shaking legs which almost gave way underneath her. She took a moment to let the shaking subside, though her knees continued to wobble. Eventually she moved toward a window. She saw a view she knew well, a large manicured lawn and beyond it, a beautiful ocean vista. Waves crashed on the shore, barely visible in the early morning gloom. From the inside of the home, she couldn’t feel the bite of the wind on her cheeks, but she knew it nonetheless. She had grown up down the street. Her childhood home was much smaller and not on the water, and it had been sold years ago after her mother’s death. Her father moved south, escaping the memories the house and the city held for him.

Joshua’s parents had distanced themselves from her after his death. She hadn’t seen this view in almost a year. After Joshua’s funeral, she had come back here with his parents. She stood at the window, the same window, and gazed out at the same water. She had tasted salt as she cried.

But then Anna had come over and asked her if she needed a car to get home. “I’m sure you would be more comfortable in your home,” Anna had told her. The Westerly family’s driver, Ernest, drove her back to the house she and Joshua had shared.

Anna Westerly never shed a tear at her son’s funeral. She told Diana her grief was beyond tears.

And now, Diana was back, gazing over the same beach and wondering what was going on. She rested her head against the cool, hard glass of the windows.

She didn’t count the minutes that passed before she heard a door open behind her, and she didn’t look around.

“Diana, darling,” she heard Anna’s voice.

“Mrs. Westerly,” she said, her eyes still closed and her head still leaned against the glass.

“Dear, you’re going to smudge the glass,” Anna said in her chiding, cold tone. Diana sighed and she lifted her head off the glass. She opened her eyes as she turned to see her fiance’s mother.

“Well, you gave us a surprise,” she said. “We were worried about you! Passing out like that, I am so glad you’re awake.”

“How did I get here?” Diana asked, searching Anna’s face. It was as impassive as ever, the unnaturally smoothed skin taut as Anna smiled and tilted her head to look at Diana, as if not understanding the question.

“Why, you don’t remember?” Anna asked, “you showed up on our doorstep raving mad. Then you passed out. As I said, it gave us a fright!” Anna smoothed her blonde hair, tucked into a neat bun and held in place by a golden pin. Diana knew that the move was a tell. She’d spent her whole life watching Anna lie convincingly while patting her hair as if to check that it was as perfect and neat as her falsehoods.

“No, I didn’t,” Diana frowned. “I was in the woods… I was at the spot where… I was at Joshua’s…” she couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. “But he was there!”

“Oh, my love,” Anna said, her tone sickeningly sweet. The woman opened her arms, “of course things are difficult for you right now! I’m so sorry. You must be feeling so much pain. We are too, of course, but you can’t have seen Joshua. He’s dead, dear. We buried him a year ago. You remember, don’t you?” She embraced Diana.

“I remember,” Diana said, “I remember the funeral, and I remember how you slowly stopped answering my calls afterward, and I remember every single day I spent alone, without him, without anyone. But I still saw him. Somehow. And I passed out from the shock. And I woke up here. I can’t explain it. Can you?”

“Well, as I said, I can’t,” Anna replied. Her voice held the tiniest note of annoyance. “You must be overtired. I insist you stay the night.”

“No,” Diana said. “No, if you don’t know what is going on, I have to get back. I have to find him! We should call the police!”

“Hey,” Anna said in a tone that was uncharacteristically gentle. She placed one hand under Diana’s chin and tilted her head up. “He isn’t out there. Please, it’s late. You should sleep on this. If, in the morning, you still think something has happened… I’ll help you, I promise. But I think you’re confused. Grief is a strange beast.”

Diana felt her eyes grow heavy. She tried to keep them open, but the longer that Anna spoke, the more exhausted she became. After a moment, unwillingly, she nodded. She let Anna take her by the hand and lead her out of the living room. They passed by the large, formal spiral staircase in the main entrance. To Diana’s surprise, she noticed that all the doors to other rooms were shut, even though the Westerlys always preferred to keep them open. They adored in letting the sea breeze waft through the halls.

Diana was led up a back staircase, the guest staircase, and into one of the spacious rooms on the second floor. She smiled when she saw it, a massive room that the Westerly family used to affectionately call ‘Diana’s Corner’ because she was such a frequent guest. It was next door to Joshua’s childhood bedroom.

“Get some sleep,” Anna implored Diana. “Please. We will talk in the morning.”

Diana nodded numbly as Anna closed the bedroom door. She kicked off her shoes and collapsed on the large, king sized bed. She fell asleep instantly, as if in a trance.