Arabella’s POV
A week earlier...
As the priest gave his final blessing, I stood with Margaret at my side. With my mother not turning up, I didn’t want to do this alone. I couldn’t. Together, we walked up to my father's coffin and placed our roses on top, Margaret’s hand growing tighter around mine as I began to tremble.
Throughout the entire service, I had somehow remained strong, but now, as I stood by his side, I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. Bringing my fingers to my lips, I kissed them before lowering them to the pine box that would forever house my father.
A part of me wished I’d had the chance to see him in his final moments, but I know in my heart it was better to remember him through my memories. To remember him as the handsome, kind-hearted man he was and would always
