GELLER'S POV
I don't know how long I've been standing here, staring at Dad's urn as it rested in its place. A glass-covered niche had been erected to hold Dad's urn, positioned right beside Olivia's headstone. It felt right; I knew he would have wanted to be by her side, even in the afterlife.
Hours had slipped by since the service had ended. I had led the solemn procession to the burial ground, carrying the urn in my hands. Mom had tried to walk beside me, but I firmly refused her presence.
To my relief, she didn’t argue, a rare display of restraint on her part. At this moment, my anger toward her burned even hotter than what I felt for Emory.
Everyone had left hours ago. I knew it was well past midnight, but I couldn't bring myself to leave. The oppressive silence clung to the air, b
