Chapter 2 2

JORDAN

Till death do us part.

The words rattle in my mind as I step into the sun, pulling down the large sunglasses to protect my eyes from the glaring beam.

Oddly, the chaos I've been feeling since I stepped foot back in the City that was once like a home to me dissipates as I walk towards the gravestone with my wife's name boldly inscribed on it.

We had promised each other forever. Ours was a whirlwind romance with one date and we were already planning our future and checking out townhouses and beach houses in Barcelona for family vacations.

"Mr. Remington."

I pause mid-stride, turning around to glance behind me. My brows wrinkle slightly as I try to recall the face of the younger man before me. He appears to be in his late twenties and in his hands are roses and a bottle of wine. Wine? That's odd.

Perhaps he finally perceives my curiosity and flashes me a smile. "I'm the caretaker. I took over after my dad died last month. He told me about you." His glance shifts towards the direction of Anna's gravestone. "He said you left the town after your wife's funeral and only visits on her death anniversary."

"I'm sorry about your father." I finally say after a moment of silence. Now that I've taken the time to study him closely, he bears an uncanny resemblance to Dodd. However, where my old friend was old and wrinkled, his son is hard and fit.

His gaze lowers and then he nods slowly, repeatedly. "Thank you, sir."

Together we continue walking to Anna's grave. Gravels crunching under our boots. It's been polished and the stone, albeit old, still gleams under the sun. I slide off my glasses and kneel on the grass, placing the bouquet of lilac and hibiscus I bought for her. They were her favorite and she had cleared a piece of land behind our townhouse in Hoboken to plant her flowers.

I notice a movement from my peripheral. It's the caretaker. He's dropping the roses on Anna's grave. He dips his hand into a gift bag I missed out on earlier and produces two wine glasses.

"I hope you don't mind sharing a drink with me, Mr. Remington?"

I straighten, brushing my palm on my black pants. I had forgotten how hot it gets during the summer here and had picked a black long-sleeved shirt, pairing it with brown pants.

"Did Dodd tell you to do this?"

He chuckles. Damn, if I had doubted his relationship with Dodd, the subtle tilt of his brows as he appears to ponder my question would have proved me wrong.

"Yes." His voice carries a sad frown. "He used to talk about you a lot and was really looking forward to this year's visit."

My gaze bounces from his face to my wife's grave. I need a moment with her but I doubt this man is ready to leave my side yet. Dodd was like this too. He'd hang around but still manage to keep a certain distance and enough to give me the privacy I needed to tell my wife all the things I've piled up.

A few times, he'd suggested I stay back. Put the big house up for sale, rent a smaller space, or buy one and stay amongst friends. I turned him down time and again. Anna was the major reason I chose New Jersey after college.

We were setting up my architectural firm and she was to enroll in a culinary school and spend some time working in her garden.

"Drink?" He stretches a half-filled glass towards me. I offer him a small nod before accepting it.

"I've heard so much about you that I feel I've known you all my life. Dad said I was a year old when you left."

He's nineteen. I was wrong about his age.

He clears his throat. "More wine?"

I sigh. I don't remember taking a sip not to talk of emptying the glass. I must be either thirsty or losing my mind as a sense of nostalgia hits me.

"No, I'll need a minute alone."

He drops the glass and bottle on the stone and steps backward. "I'll be somewhere around, in case you need me, Sir."

As his footsteps retreat, I go back to kneeling on the grass and placing my palms on the stone. It's been nineteen years but the pains of losing the only woman I vowed to love for the rest of my life hit me as hard as the night she passed.

She was on her way to the store to pick up groceries when a truck driver smashed right into her Camry. She had died that night. My chest heaves as a vivid image of her lying in a pool of blood fills my mind, making my bones weaken.

"Oh, Anna!" I moan, sniffling back the tears that are sticking to my lashes. She would have been 39 now and probably running her restaurant as she always wanted and raising our kids with me by her side.

The first tear drops.

Then the second.

Then another, until my vision becomes blurry. "I miss you so much, honey. Last night, I sealed this huge deal with a construction company in China. I was so excited and itching to celebrate. However, the second I stepped into the bar and ordered a glass of champagne, I felt so cold and couldn't bear to sit there anymore." I sniffle and raise my hands to wipe my eyes.

"I remembered how much you love to celebrate every single milestone no matter how little it was. We'd hang out until your feet start hurting, then head home and sit on our front porch while I massage your feet and kiss them till you feel nothing. Do you think I'm being a coward for not moving on after all these years?" I chuckle.

Anyone watching me right now will think I'm nuts. Maybe they're right. I'm going way over my head with thoughts of my late wife. I've refused to come to terms with the fact that she's no longer with me, that she's dead and her ashes are sitting right in my car.

A car stops at the curb ten yards from where I'm kneeling. I cock my head and pull the sunglasses over my face, hiding it from view. It's been Nineteen years. I doubt anyone would recognize me. Dodd always made sure to keep away distractions whilst I'm here. I guess he forgot to tell his son that bit.

"Do you want me to send them away, Mr. Remington?"

Laughter.

I swirl my head around to see who the occupants of the car are. Teenagers. They're coming into the cemetery with flowers and –

"High school kids. They lost their coach after last season."

Oh. They're not here to mess around then. Perhaps it's time to leave and face the rest of my day. It's going to be a long one.

Facing forward again, I lean down and kiss the stone. "I'll come see you again soon, honey."

My thumb wipes at the wetness on my cheek. The wine is still there. I pick them up and hand them back to him. "Thank you."

He shrugs. "I'm glad you came by, Mr. Remington."

I nod. I'm glad too, but I don't know for how long. The last time I was around this part of the world for a long period of time I was twenty-six and just starting to set up my firm. Now I'm forty-five, a billionaire.

"Are you staying?"

I inhale slowly and gingerly stretches to pat his broad shoulder. "What's your name, son?"

"Joel."

I squeeze his shoulder gently. "It's nice to meet you, Joel."

My mind races with thoughts of Anna as I drive home.

This is a mistake.

I stare around the cozy space, wondering if I made the right choice by selling the townhouse and moving into a condo. Dodd would have been thrilled to know I'm finally taking his advice.

I stop in my tracks as a woman approaches. She's wiping her hands with a white towel, her face beaming with a welcoming smile.

"Welcome home, Mr. Remington."

I force a nod.

"Is it alright if I serve your lunch now?"

She's standing right under the bright bulb. My gaze drifts to the nametag on her apron. Agatha. Fitting. She does look like an Agatha. Her curly blonde hair is neatly tucked under her bonnet, with a few tendrils fanning her forehead.

A picture on the mantle catches my attention. I had instructed the movers to take Anna's belongings to a private storage. I guess they forgot this one. It's a picture from our first date.

I hear frantic movement behind me, and then the housekeeper appears and reaches out a hand to take the picture off.

"Leave it," I say.

She wiggles her finger. "I'm sorry. The movers told me you didn't want her stuff lying around. I was fixing up your room and found it amongst your---"

A car door opens outside and then a figure appears outside the house. It's the driver. I wave Agatha away and walk into my bedroom. I need to change and get the documents I need for the meeting. If I must stay here, I have to make sure I have someplace I can work outside the condo. And my old friends, it's been eons since I last saw or heard from them.

Volkov.

I wonder if he'll be happy to see me even though I haven't bothered to return his emails and phone calls for over ten years now. I just couldn't keep up anymore and work was the only thing that kept me sane.

"Mr. Remington-" Agatha calls out from outside my bedroom door.

"If this is about lunch, Agatha, I'm not hungry. Don't bother with dinner too." I say dismissively.

"Not that, Sir. Your PA just called. He said you have less than twenty minutes before your meeting with the partners."

I grin. Finally, something to look forward to. I'm going to stay positive. Take each day as it comes and hope for the best. That's what Anna would have wanted.

"Tell him I'm on my way."