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edgeofmyniall · 1 year

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okay so I am TERRIBLE at math so the flashback dates maybe wrong I will make a post putting them in order at the end of the story

The Funeral: Part One

“Ready?” Niall asks, extending an open hand toward Poppy as she stands nervously in front of the bedroom door. She looks at Niall, daring him to say something, anything, that would explain his actions. She knows this is not the time or place, but the crystal blue orbs that are staring back at her have a sense of pleading in them. As if they were wanting the same thing. She looks down, running her hands over the smooth material, dusting herself off. It is a nervous habit of hers. She’s wearing the v-neck long back dress with the slit running up to her mid-thigh that hangs onto her body for dear life- the same dress she wore the day she signed the divorce papers. The same day Niall never showed.

She rolls her silver rings in her fingers as her heels tap in a rhythm of their own on the cold hardwood floor. When Niall had returned from his shower fully dressed, he had walked in on Poppy in her black lace undergarments. His eyes went wide as he quickly shut the bedroom door before clearing his throat. He rolled his bottom lip between his teeth as Poppy hurriedly pulled over the dress. He hadn’t realized that his heart was in his throat blocking any air until she looked away from him, ashamed. She needed help with the zipper, only halfway up. Poppy turned her head with a look of pleading on her face. She dare not ask Niall for help in words, only looks. Niall’s hands were warm against her cold skin. Taking the metal zipper in his hands, his knuckles trailed up Poppy’s spine, touching her tattoo of the phases of the moon. Niall breathed in heavily, something to steady him from the intoxication of the woman standing in front of him. Hooking the material together, he stepped back to the door waiting on Poppy. “Don’t forget to grab your… fur thing.”

A surprised look crosses Poppy’s face. She had almost forgotten her faux white fur wrap, a gift that Niall gave her last Christmas. A present that she opened with him when her parents came to visit them for the holidays. It had been a rough week between faking their happy marriage to the unspoken anger hanging in the air between them when they were left alone. Niall had slept on the couch in his old office- his excuse to his once in-laws that work never stopped and reminding them that he was always extra busy during the holidays. Neither of them talked about when the night crept in that Poppy’s sobs could be heard. Niall tried telling himself that she would get over this in time.

She walks to the bed, heels clicking against the floor. It was the only sound in the room as Niall watched her wrap the shawl around her arms. She was beautiful, Niall admits to himself. She had always been, but standing alone in the room with Poppy, Niall truly was amazed at Poppy. She had been relatively strong through the divorce. There had been whispers that she would give Niall everything in the beginning, but after talking with her lawyer, she was given half of everything, including the business. He agreed to the terms and doesn’t regret his decision. He had been insistent on it actually; Poppy did help start the multi-million dollar business from ground up and was there through the tough financial times, but when money and shiny things came into sight, that was the only thing she had eyes for. Not that she would say that, but that’s how Niall saw things.

“Do I look alright?” Poppy’s lips purse as she walks back to Niall, eventually taking his hand. Niall’s hand was a familiar dream to her. The calloused fingertips gently hovering over her knuckles, the softness of his tanned skin. It was something that was never within reach, but she could feel him in her dreams. A blonde tendril fell from Poppy’s tight low bun, and as an instinct, Niall let his grip go on Poppy and pushed the hairs back into their preferred place.

Poppy’s body froze from the touch. She wasn’t expecting such gentleness from her ex- husband when his fingers fell to her cheek and his thumb ran down her skin. It was the familiarity that she longed for that came in a lapse of judgement. Her body is rigid from him looking at her with with such adoration. It was almost too much. Here standing in front of her, caressing's her cheek as if there wasn’t a damn thing wrong between was the man who shredded her heart when she was at her lowest and then tried placing the blame on their failed marriage on her. She clears her throat, rolling her head away from his touch before placing her hand in his, hoping what just happened between them was something from a dream.

“Absolutely to die for, babe,” Niall smiles, opening the door. His eyes are shining blue under the morning light, like the sky after a night of storms. Poppy retreats her hand as her face furrows.

“Don’t call me that.” One word. One singular word is all it took for the moment of Poppy’s dream to shatter. Everything had returned to normal. Niall was hers for a moment, a split second that had gone back to being themselves instead of who they are now. But it was a moment that wasn’t hers to keep. “You don’t get to call me that anymore.”

Niall sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck as he looked down at his feet. He was disappointed in himself, really, for letting down the invisible walls around Poppy. He had gone back into his old ways of feeling. Like Poppy was still his. Still his wife. And to see the look on Poppy’s face- hurt and confused as she put another wall between them, killed Niall to say the least. “Sorry, bit of a habit, I guess. Let’s just get this over with. Okay?” Niall extends his hand again, hoping that Poppy would take it, and she did...reluctantly.

The stairway was small so Niall let his grip on Poppy's hand go proceeding his descent first. Poppy looked at herself in the mirror that hangs on the wall in front of their bedroom door. She was unsure of who she saw. A liar. A wife. An almost mother. A broken heart. All of these things were Poppy, but the face that looked back at her was a face that she couldn’t recognize. She was too far gone for saving.

Four Years Ago

He had lets his lips linger on the black markings that are permanently imbedded in her skin. He had told her at least fifteen times that he loved her, but the urge of saying it once again was becoming stronger. He just couldn’t get enough of her.

“Pop?” he asks sheepishly, his forehead resting on her shoulder. He wanted to drink her in. She was all his and he was all hers, at least for now until the baby comes.

“Mmm?” she says flipping through one of the many interior design catalogs she designated herself to comb through, circling anything that catches her eye, but it was so hard to concentrate when her husband was kissing her skin and running his hands all over her body.

“I love you.”

Three words. Eight letters. He had told her several times in just a few short moments, but Penelope didn’t think she could ever get tired of hearing it. She had found someone who loved and cherished her more than she could imagine.

“Babe?” Nate cooed out, his nose tickling her skin.

“Yes?” she quirked a brow up, turning her head to face her husband.

“You didn’t say it back.”

Poppy sets the magazine down and smiles. She notices how tangled his hair is and how sweaty his skin had gotten from their tryst. She wanted him still, and even so, more than she did a few minutes before.

“I love you, meathead.”

“Say it like you mean it,” Nate whimpered, his body was beginning to ache from wanting to hear her say it again. How did this happen to him? Had he become so reliant on someone else’s feelings that his body went into shock from not hearing the same words?

“I love you, darling.” She called him by the pet name she gave him when they first started dating. He teased her for being so sophisticated and regal, but, now, hearing anything else was less than. Nate wraps his arms around Poppy’s waist imagining what it will be like when her belly does begin to grow. “I’ll never stop loving you.”

She pushed courage through her shoulders and walked down the stars where Niall was waiting for her. She noticed his tie was loose and as her feet faced Niall on the first floor, she quickly tightened the black tie. Looking at him through her lashes, she gave him a quick smile before shame crashed through her. Why is she looking at Niall with such endearment? Such love? He was someone else’s now and the past could not be rewritten.

The small group of friends are gathered in the living room waiting for Niall and Poppy to appear. They are quiet, dreading the reason they’ve all come together. To say goodbye to a friend, a loved one, a comrade. Each one of them held stories of Justin in their hearts that only time would be able to listen- it was too raw now to share the personal touches that Justin made. Deep down, everyone was angry in a way that Justin had kept his sickness a secret. It was only when Justin found Poppy on the floor crying her eyes out that he spilled the secret that had eaten him from the inside out.

Two Years Ago

There was a soft knock on the front door that was left ajar. Justin had found it like this- the house empty with only shards of a once white vase scattered across the floor. He didn’t know what was going on- a break in? Did someone hurt Niall or Poppy? Are they alive?

“Poppy? Niall?” He called out as he carefully closed the door. He stood in the entryway only to hear soft sobbing. As he peered over the corner of the living room, he saw Poppy sitting on the floor with her knees to her chest. Each step that Justin took was painful; he was always in pain now it seemed like. Even on his good days, every bone in his body hurt like hell. Stepping down in the living room, Justin braced his back against the wall and slid down next to Poppy and wrapped his arm around his friend. Poppy looked up to see her friend, now bald, sitting next to her. She lay her head down in his lap as she tried to steady her crying. She managed to be able to wipe some tears away before speaking.

“He’s gone, Justin. He left me.” Poppy felt Justin’s cold hand brush her sweaty hair out of her face as his body became tense with each stroke. Poppy didn’t feel the need to continue talking as her friend only sat there in silence. It was like everything she wanted to say Justin already knew. Poppy stared at the floor, her vision becoming blurry as she dissociated from reality. She could hear Justin talking, but didn’t understand what he said. It was like hearing someone talk under water. “What?”

“I’ve got cancer,” Justin’s voice was straight, like he had practiced saying the words over and over again. “Liver. That’s why I’m less handsome up here.” Justin gestures with his finger in a circulation above his head. Poppy sat up, leaning on one hand as she looked her sick friend in the eyes. She could see it now, all the signs she missed: the sunken eyes, the loss of appetite, the few appearances he did make only seemed to wear him out easily, and now his hair.

“How long?” Poppy asked, her eyes filled with tears of sadness. This time it was different. She was crying for the loss of her friend and the loss that came with cancer.

“I dunno. Doctor says maybe a year, maybe a month. Depends on how hard I fight.” He offers Poppy a soft smile. “I’m fighting like hell, but it hurts so much.”

“Justin....I’m sorry… I should have paid more attention,” Justin only shakes his head.

“Don’t you do that, Penelope. Don’t you go over analyzing everything in that brain of yours. I hid it from everyone except Alex. Can’t really hide it from the person you live with. Funny thing was, I was going to ask her to marry me this year.”

Niall and Poppy stand behind the emerald green couch as Alex pours a shot of whiskey in everyone’s glass. Hiding behind the couch, Niall’s hand is clinging to Poppy’s for dear life as he tries to make a straight face- like he’s not hurting, like he’s not mourning the loss of his best friend. The soft embers of the fire light up the room and the crackles of the wood are the only sound in the room except for the occasional clinking of glasses. Alex stands in the middle of the group with the bottle of whiskey in her hands.

“What we’re about to do is going to be hard. We’re having to say goodbye to the best damn man we’ve all ever known and it’s going to hurt. So let it hurt. Let it be hard. Cry your eyes out, but know Justin loved every single one of you and believed in you even when you no longer believed in yourselves,” Alex’s stare lingers on Poppy and Niall in the eyes as she takes her own swig of the alcohol following the troupe of friends paying tribute to Alex’s short toast.

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