This time she didn’t wear black, nor did she put on makeup. She arrived at the graveside service of Olivia Holmes, one of only ten people who were there. She went straight up to Ryan, who was talking to the minister. He saw her coming and excused himself. She held out her arms and he all but fell into them, gripping her tightly, his head bent, mouth so close to her neck that she felt his warm breath on her skin. She rubbed his back.

‘How are you holding up?’ she asked. She knew that it was an empty question, but she also knew it had to be asked, just in case he wanted to answer it.

He looked at her, his face pale under his tan, his good looks hidden behind a mask of pain. The minister started the service and Vanessa found herself holding Ryan’s hand with no recollection of how it got there. Still, she didn’t let go, knowing the excruciating agony this day brought with it. The service was short; Olivia Holmes, aged seventeen, was buried without any fanfare. She had roses too, and Vanessa had to ask if she liked them.

‘Yes, she did. She got her love of gardening and roses from her mother, who died many years ago – Olivia never got over her passing.’ He smiled sadly. ‘I guess I didn’t either and now I’ve lost them both.’ His voice rose higher as he tried to hide the tears in his voice and in his eyes.

‘How ’bout I drive you back to your house? You can pick up your car tomorrow.’ She didn’t think it was a good idea for him to be driving himself around. She knew that after Wren’s funeral she could barely walk in a straight line, let alone drive. She didn’t want Ryan to hurt himself. He nodded.

No one followed them back to his house. ‘Are you not having anyone come over?’

‘Who would attend but you? I really appreciate you coming today. It has made an unbearable day slightly more bearable. Olivia would have liked that you came too. She always said you were a lovely person and a great mom.’

Vanessa smiled sadly as Ryan opened the front door.

‘I know it’s kinda early,’ he said, looking at the clock that showed eleven thirty, ‘but I need a glass of red. Would you like one?’

She really should go home, but she knew she couldn’t leave him alone; he’d just buried his only child for fuck’s sake. ‘Sure, just a small one, though.’

She watched as he poured a generous glass for them both. Lucky for her that Maggie was looking after Ty. She would pick him up from school and she could stay here with Ryan for a bit longer. The wine hit her fast as she still wasn’t eating.