One Wild Night

Chapter 846  Fine Gentleman.

The rain lashed against the funeral home windows, a relentless drumbeat that mirrored the rhythm of Amy's pounding heart. Each drop felt like a tiny hammer blow, chipping away at the fragile dam of her composure.

Inside, the air was thick with the scent of lilies and subdued grief. Amy sat stiffly in the second pew, her black dress clinging uncomfortably to her damp skin.

Amy looked across the aisle, her gaze landing on the simple golden casket adorned with a single spray of white roses.

It was absurd, unthinkable, that vibrant, life-loving Miley was in there. A couple of weeks ago, they'd been giggling over coffee, planning weekend adventures. Now, all that remained was a cold, unfeeling box.

Her gaze darted from the casket to Miley's tear-streaked parents who were seated in the first pew, their faces etched with a grief so raw it seemed to have leached the color from their skin.

A lump formed in Amy's throat, threatening to choke back the torrent of emotions churning within her. Beside her, her mother ever the pillar of strength, had tears glistening in her own eyes, the lines around her eyes deepening with each silent sob.

Amy's mother had practically raised Miley and she had been like a daughter to her. So, being in Miley's funeral, was like attending the funeral of another daughter. Having lost one in the past, this was a painful reminder of her loss as well as a fresh loss.

Amy squeezed her mother's hand and a choked sob escaped her lips. Amy, unable to bear it any longer, pulled her into a tight embrace.

The officiant, a kind-faced priest with a gentle voice, spoke in hushed tones about the brevity and fleeting nature of life. He talked about the importance of cherishing loved ones and the enduring power of memories. His words were a balm to some, a source of irritation to others.

Lost in the whirlpool of her own sorrow, Amy barely registered the eulogy he delivered, a generic recitation of life and loss. The only reality for her was the gold casket a few feet away, the final, cruel container that held her vibrant, funny, exasperating best friend.

Finally, the priest concluded his remarks. A hush fell over the gathering as the rain seemed to pause for breath.

As the eulogy approached, a wave of nausea washed over Amy. Public speaking had never been her forte, but how could she not deliver one last tribute to her best friend? How could she not honor Miley's wish?

A hush fell over the gathering and all eyes turned towards Amy as she was called forward.

"Are you ready, Amy?" The priest asked softly.

Miley had left a will in her journal stating that she didn't want halfhearted tributes. She wanted only Amy to talk about her, since Amy was the only one, apart from her parents who knew her best and had loved her so fiercely— the sister she never had.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Amy rose from the chair, her legs trembling slightly. Amy stepped forward, her legs shaky despite the short distance towards the podium.

Standing at the podium, she took a deep breath as she surveyed the faces before her, a sea of grief-stricken faces, most of them strangers, some neighbors, a handful of classmates who, like her, were grappling with the sudden loss of a friend, some of the domestic staff at the Garwood mansion both retired and current ones, and a few distant relatives, all whose lives were touched in one way or another by Miley.

Her gaze met Mrs. Garwood's her eyes filled with a desperate plea. Amy knew what she needed – a glimpse of Miley, the girl they both loved, in the midst of their grief.

Amy picked up the microphone. It microphone felt cold and foreign in her damp hand. "Everyone," she began, her voice surprisingly steady. "Thank you all for coming today to celebrate the life of Miley Garwood."

"Miley… My Miley," she began, her voice wavering. A beat of silence stretched before her, and then, the words began to flow.

"Miley wasn't just my best friend," Amy began, her voice cracking slightly. "She was my sister. My confidant. The other half of my heart. My soul mate. My sunshine on a cloudy day. The missing puzzle piece that made my world complete."

A choked sob rippled through the crowd and tears welled in Amy's eyes again, blurring her vision. But Amy refused to falter. She waited for the wave of emotion to pass before continuing.

"Miley wasn't afraid to be herself," Amy continued, her voice regaining its strength. "She embraced life with a contagious enthusiasm, her laughter echoing through every room she entered. She had this incredible ability to find the joy in anything and an uncanny ability to see the good in everyone. Her kindness knew no bounds."

A choked sob escaped her lips, but she pressed on, the memories of her time with Miley lending her strength.

A flicker of a smile touched Mr. Garwood's lips as Amy painted a vivid picture of their friendship. From whispered secrets under the covers to late-night adventures, from karaoke nights butchering pop songs to sharing dreams and anxieties. Each story she shared elicited a chuckle or a sniffle from the crowd, a testament to the life they were mourning.

A watery smile touched Amy's lips as she recalled a particularly embarrassing incident from their teenage years. A poorly planned attempt at dyeing their hair blonde had resulted in a disastrous shade of orange, a secret they'd only shared with each other. A ripple of soft laughter passed through the crowd, a welcome break from the suffocating grief.

Tears welled up in Amy's eyes as she spoke of Miley's unwavering support, her fierce loyalty, and the unwavering belief she had instilled in Amy to chase her dreams, no matter how crazy they seemed.

"She wasn't perfect," Amy admitted, a ghost of a smile playing on her own lips. "She  wouldn't be human if she was. But then again, I don't think she was human. Miley was an angel, howbeit a pigheaded angel. She was the most stubborn person I ever knew, but also the sweetest."

A sob wracked Mrs. Garwood's body, and her husband reached out to comfort her. Tears welled up in his own eyes.

"Miley had this incredible strength, a determination to live life to the fullest. And even when death stared her in the face, she still chose to live her life to the fullest. She taught me to embrace the unexpected, to chase after my dreams no matter how crazy they seemed. And most importantly, she taught me the true meaning of love and friendship. She taught me the importance of seizing every moment. And for that, I will be eternally grateful," Amy paused, tears blurring her vision.

"She may be gone," Amy continued, "but her spirit lives on in all of us. In the kindness we show, the laughter we share, and the courage we find to chase our dreams, a little piece of Miley will always be with us."

A collective sniffle filled the air, and taking a deep breath, Amy concluded, "Miley," she choked out, her voice thick with emotion, "you left a gaping hole in my life. In all our lives. A void that can never be filled. But your spirit, your laughter, your zest for life and wavering love– those will stay with us forever and be forever etched in my heart. I will carry you in my heart, a constant reminder to live life to the fullest, just like you did."

Amy's gaze lingered at the lifeless casket. "I miss you, my dearest friend." she whispered, "This isn't goodbye. It's a see you later. Until we meet again, you will forever be the brightest star in my sky."

As the last words left her lips, a wave of emotion washed over her, and the crowd erupted in applause. Tears streamed down Amy's face, a mixture of grief and love.

With a final, shaky breath, she stepped away from the podium, and as she made her way back to her seat, she caught a glimpse of someone who looked like Lucas walking out of the hall.

Before she could go after him, Miley's mom rose from her seat and embraced her, "Thank you, Amy. Thank you for sending her off so beautifully. No one could have done it better than you did," she cried.

Amy cast one last glance in the direction Lucas had taken, and she hugged Miley's mother back, hoping that Lucas would hang around long enough for her to express her gratitude to him.

A couple of hours later after Miley had been buried, the crowd filed out slowly, a somber procession of black umbrellas battling the relentless rain.

Amy lingered, helping Mrs. Garwood sort out some thank you cards for the attendees. Her heart ached for the grieving parents, the raw pain etched on their faces a constant reminder of her own loss.

As the last guest departed, Amy noticed a lone figure standing at the Lobby, and her heart skipped a beat.

Lucas.

Relief and surprise washed over her in equal measure when she saw him. She had kept looking around for him since she saw him earlier, but thought he had left when she didn't see him. She had even thought she probably imagined him being there, but seeing him standing there, she was happy.

She hurried towards him, hoping to catch him before he disappeared again.

"Luca," Amy said, her voice hoarse. "I didn't expect to see you here."

He straightened, offering a smile as his gaze swept over her face. "Your eulogy was beautiful. Miley would have loved it."

"Thank you," Amy replied, her heart swelling with gratitude. "I couldn't have done it without you. Thanks for going out of your way to help me."

"It was just the right thing to do," he said and Amy smiled.

"And thanks for helping me change the locks. You can let me know how much it cost..."

Lucas smiled. "I won't do that. It wasn't much," Lucas said and Amy looked at him.

"How can I repay your kindness?"

"There is nothing to repay. It's the human thing to do. When someone is down, and you can help, you should lift them up. But if you really want to repay me, extend the same kindness to someone else when you see they need it," Lucas said, and Amy smiled this time, touched by Lucas' kind nature.

There was a pause, a charged silence that hung heavy in the air. Amy tilted her head, studying him. "I thought you left the country already," she finally ventured. n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

"I was supposed to leave last night," Lucas admitted, his gaze flickering away. "But…"

"But?" Amy prompted, a hint of curiosity creeping into her voice.

He hesitated, then took a deep breath. "Lucy spoke to me. She suggested that you know, maybe I was leading you on by being so nice."

Amy blinked. "Leading me on?"

Well, she had not thought he was leading her on. She has figured he was being himself. And if her heart had fluttered because of his gestures, it had fluttered of its own accord.

"Yeah," Lucas rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks flushing slightly. "She thought I might be giving you the wrong impression."

Amy's amusement bubbled over into a soft laugh. "So you canceled your flight just to tell me you were being… nice?"

Lucas winced. "Well, not exactly. I came to pay my last respect to Miley and to clear the air. Let you know I don't have any… romantic interest in you. I was just being myself, being helpful."

Amy raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Helpful? By coming to my best friend's funeral just to… tell me you're not interested in me? You couldn't send it as a text or call when you arrived? Or even an email?"

Lucas flushed a deeper shade of red. "Look, it might sound stupid, but I didn't want you to get the wrong idea. I wanted to tell you in person."

"Is it that important to you that I don't get the wrong idea? What if I already got the wrong idea and I'm interested in you? Or what if doing this just made me become even more interested in you?" Amy asked, and Lucas blinked at her, taken aback by her questions.

"Amy— I— I'm sorry if you feel that way, but I'm not ready for any of that," Lucas said honestly.

Amy's smile softened. "So, you're not interested in me not because you don't like me, but because you're not ready?" She asked, and Lucas couldn't help being flustered by her bluntness.

"Amy..."

"It's okay. I understand. I'm not exactly ready at the moment either. And for the record, I appreciate your help more than you know. Thanks for being there for me when I really needed someone," Amy said,

A hint of relief flickered in Lucas's eyes. "So… we're good?"

"Of course, we are good," Amy confirmed, extending her hand. "Thanks again, for everything."

Lucas took her hand, his fingers warm and surprisingly strong. "Sure."

"I should get going now. Tyler is waiting at the airport," Lucas said, and Amy nodded.

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment longer, staring at each other.

"Can I maybe call you some time? Or text? Or email?" Amy asked breaking the silence, and Lucas hesitated.

"You said we were friends. Friends do that much," Amy reminded him.

"Emails," Lucas decided, and Amy smiled.

"Less personal, huh? Why don't we do it this way, I will give you my email address and leave it up to you to decide if you want to send me an email or not?" Amy asked and before Lucas could respond, she quickly scribbled her email address on one of the thank you cards and tucked it in the pocket of his jacket.

A hesitant smile graced her lips, "And maybe when next you visit your sister, you could let me buy you a drink or coffee. Whichever you want. Just as friends, of course. My way of saying thank you. And maybe then you can tell me what you said to them, to make them change their mind about me," Amy said, even though deep down she knew she was asking that because she wanted to be able to hangout with him again.

Lucas held her gaze, not sure why he felt once again like she was subtly reeling him in.

"I will think about it," Lucas said, and with a final nod, he walked away.

As Amy watched him leave, she felt a warmth bloom in her chest amidst the grief.

How did such a sweet guy ever get involved with someone like Rachel? She mused as she turned around to return inside.

"Amy? Who was that fine gentleman?" Her mother asked, startling her.

"That was Lu... Dr Perry," she said, and her mother raised a brow.

"Dr Perry? Why didn't you bring him in? I would have loved to thank him," her mother said, Mrs Garwood who had come out in search of Amy heard her.

"Lucas Perry was here?" She asked, and Amy nodded.

"He left in a haste to catch his flight," Amy explained, and Mrs Garwood nodded.

"I see. He did say he wouldn't be able to make it to the funeral because he had to travel back. I guess he wanted to see you," she said thoughtfully but Amy said nothing.

Miley had written so much about Lucas in her journal, and she had expressed her regret at how things ended between them and Lucas and how she wished Amy would be able to resolve things with him or at least end up with a man like Lucas if not Lucas himself. Miley had implied that there was chemistry between the two.

"He is such a fine young man," Amy's mother said and Mrs Garwood nodded in agreement.

"I learned from Miley's journal that she tried to matchmake you both," Mrs Garwood said and Amy blushed.

"She really liked him," Amy said simply.

"I'm sure she did. It is quite easy to see why," Mrs Garwood said with a small smile.

"I guess this is the first time you're seeing him since your misunderstanding?" She asked, and Amy shook her head.

"I work as his twin sister's secretary. We met last weekend when he visited. He was very helpful," Amy said and Mrs Garwood smiled.

This just confirmed what her and her husband had thought about Lucas' visit. After thinking about all he had said, they had concluded that Lucas had not only come to pay condolence but he had also subtly tried to convince them of Amy's innocence without revealing his intent.

He had acted like he had not seen Amy for a long time, yet Amy had confirmed she saw him the last weekend. That meant Amy wasn't even aware of all he had told them, cause if she was, she wouldn't have said she met last weekend.

 As they all returned inside, she silently prayed that Miley's wish would come through for Amy.

A good person like Amy deserved a kind and thoughtful gentleman like Lucas. Like Miley had said, they would be a perfect fit.