The rain had already soaked through Ben’s jacket when they lowered the coffin into the ground. The cold water dripped from his sleeves, but he hardly noticed.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
He stood a little apart, away from the main group, watching the clusters of people gathering close to the grave.
Some whispered to each other. Some just stared at the ground. Lydia, stiff and pale, stood between her two grown children, Megan and Eric.
Her hands were clenched at her sides, and her eyes looked empty, like she was somewhere far away.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Across the muddy path, a man and a woman lingered uneasily. Their clothes were neat but damp, their faces tense.
Ben didn’t recognize them, but deep down, he knew they had a reason to be here.
He glanced at the casket again, feeling a heavy weight in his chest. David. The man who had been like a second father to him on the endless stretches of highway.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Two decades of shared silence, greasy diners, broken-down engines, and stories. Some lies, too, it turned out, hidden deep under all those miles.
After the service ended, the two sides drifted closer, as if pulled by a force they couldn’t escape.
Megan was the first to break. Her arms folded tight across her chest, her eyes sharp.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Who are you?” she asked, her voice hard.
The woman across the path shifted on her feet. She looked scared. Her hands twisted in front of her.
“I’m Laura,” she said. Her voice shook. “And this is my brother, Daniel. We’re… we’re David’s children.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexel
Ben watched the words land like a blow. Megan jerked back. Eric’s mouth opened, but no sound came. Lydia’s face turned even paler. She took one shaky step forward.
“No,” Lydia said. Her voice was thin. “That’s not possible. I was his wife. He had a family. Us.”
Daniel straightened his back. His jaw tightened. “We didn’t know about you,” he said.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Eric’s face turned red. His fists clenched. “Liar!” he barked. His voice cracked the heavy air.
Laura shook her head fast. “It’s true!” she cried. “We thought he was working. Always gone. Weeks at a time.”
Ben stepped forward. His boots squished in the wet grass. His voice was steady.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“They’re telling the truth,” Ben said. “David lived two lives. The job made it easy. Always on the road. Always an excuse. Late deliveries. Broken trucks. Nights away. He made each of you believe you were the only family.”
Megan’s face twisted. She looked like she might fall. Lydia just stared, lost.
“He came to birthdays,” Laura whispered. “He came to some school plays. Sometimes he missed them. We thought it was just work. We never thought he had another home.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
The silence broke sharply, like a window shattering.
“You’re lying!” Megan yelled. She lunged forward. Her hands balled into fists.
Daniel stepped up fast. “We waited too!” he shouted. “Every Christmas! Every Thanksgiving! We waited for him!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Lydia’s voice rose, full of pain. “He loved us!” she cried. “He loved me!”
Ben shook his head. “He lied to all of you,” he said. His voice was heavy like the rain.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Ben pulled his cap lower. His heart hurt. David had left wreckage, not just memories.
“There’s a lawyer coming tonight,” Ben said. His voice was rough. “He’ll read the will. Try to hold it together until then.”
The two groups turned away. Like tired armies after a lost battle. Ben stayed behind, staring at the fresh dirt, wondering how love could cause so much pain.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
David’s house smelled of damp wood and old regrets. Every step on the floor made a soft, sad creak.
The air felt heavy, like it carried too many memories. Ben leaned against the wall near the door, arms folded across his chest.
He stayed quiet, just watching. The two sides had split the room without saying a word, each carving out their own space in the cramped living room.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Megan perched on the edge of the couch. Her hands shook a little as she tapped her nails fast against her knee.
Her face was tight. Her jaw locked. Eric stood right behind her, arms crossed, his whole body tense. His eyes never left the others.
Across from them, Laura sat stiff and straight. One hand rested on her pregnant belly.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
She kept glancing at Megan and Eric but said nothing. Daniel sprawled in an armchair, legs wide, scowling at the floor like he wanted to punch something.
And in the center, like a forgotten statue, sat Lydia. Her hands twisted over and over in her lap. Her eyes stared at nothing.
Ben cleared his throat. “He pulled it off because he was never home long enough to be caught,” he said. “Long-haul trucking gave him the excuse. Days away. Sometimes weeks. Always somewhere else. Always a reason not to come home.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
No one spoke. The room was heavy with anger.
Megan’s mouth twisted. She looked like she wanted to scream.
“Yeah, well, guess we were all just convenient stops along the way,” Megan muttered. Her voice dripped with hurt.
Laura’s face turned red. Her hands gripped the chair harder.
To be continued!
