Chapter 2
His shirt collar felt as though it were choking him as he propped a foot on the nearest tombstone – a squat round thing, the etchings long since faded from view. A piece of moss, dislodged by his dress shoe, floated to the ground below as he watched, pulling deeply on a cigarette clasped between his lips. It was a beautiful day for a wedding, he had to admit. And though the little boy inside him was angry with his father for never having married his mother, he also had to admit, it was good to see the old man happy. Not that he'd ever say it, of course.
The last handful of years had seen them both drift further away from each other until they'd become little more than strangers – the odd phone call here and there had been all that had kept them connected. That had all chan
