Taylor's POV
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Jay Gilbert Scott had managed to deliver a message from the grave. It would have seemed undoable to him given the flames licking around him but of course he managed it. The briefcase had been extricated from an overhead compartment. Charred and warped beyond belief. It was a fancy briefcase darling, I say to him as if he's standing with me in my kitchen as I look down at it on the worktop. Jay had gone on about it when he bought it. Waterproof he had informed me as I giggled and he tickled me. It's bullet proof too he had joked as my mind baffled that such items existed.
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The case had been located alongside his remains, he had been found clinging onto a young child estimated age of four years old. Both charred by fire had sunk alongside the aircraft. I'm sure that one day I may regret not seeing his remains, Ross had identified him for me. I just could not bare witness to him burned and subject to the tragedy of his untimely death. The news however that he died seemingly holding onto a child proves to me that he spent his final moments protecting others.
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Since Ross has taken both of the children out this morning, in the pursuit of giving me some time to go through both the briefcase and a few of his belongings that survived the crash. Much of his belongings had been burned in the cargo hold. It appears he had been in the very rear of the plane which left him in a safer position, unlike many other passengers whose remains were unidentifiable due to exposure to the fire.
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The metal clips on the case are warped and so clicking them open isn't an option, thinking for a few minutes and looking at the box that is the last thing my husband may have touched I take to it with a screw driver. To no avail it stares back at me and I curse slightly, it's not clear that anything would still be intact inside of the case but I must know either way.
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A wrench, I think to myself, taking the case outside to the garages and staring at his motorbikes. The sun streams over the Harley Davidson, we had spent time on it when he drove me around the Italian countryside. I would cling onto his waist and hug him closely. How his hair would tickle my face and I would kiss him whilst he drove.
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Just behind the bikes I find his metal tool box, squashing my tears I open it up and take to the hinges with the back of a hammer prizing them off. Smacking them in-between pulling them free. Incrementally the hinges budge and I continue to work on them for over an hour.
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Until one of them springs off and I tear at the other with all of the elbow grease I have. Eventually two hours pass and I realise I'm sitting on the garage floor with two hinges and an open briefcase. The last moments of his life, strewn out before me as I take in the spreadsheets and the numbers he had been working on before he arrived home. A small clipping of paper takes my eye and I pull it out, I take in his handwriting and cry. His last message to us as a family before he died, expressing his love for me and for both of our children. Holding the note to my chest before collecting up his mobile phone, Rolex and wallet.
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Through tears I yank out his identity card and gaze upon his face. Out loud into the empty garage I tell him how much I love him. How I miss him dearly. Before reflecting on how it's so very Jay to have placed all of his cards and identification documents in a briefcase where I could recover them safely. His passport, and all of the relevant up to date documents regarding the business all safe as I calm my sobs and collect up the items. Including his wedding band which he placed in the case, holding onto the band of gold I fasten it around the chain on my neck and cry.
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My vows to you are forever my darling. I whisper holding onto his ring and sobbing.
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The garage remains silent and unaltered but I feel the change in my bones as I place the items back into the case in order to take them back into the farmhouse. The note he left, the remains being identified and my having his wedding band around my neck gives me acceptance and peace. Out loud and into the silent garage I thank him, I tell him I love him and as I stand the air shifts just incrementally making me still. Breathing in sharply, and looking into the murky light in front of me, the smallest of breaths on the back of my neck that makes the hairs stand up. Standing incredibly still I sob and if I wasn't struck by grief I would not feel anything at all, yet as I stand looking at the Harley Davidson I am almost positive that I feel his hand on my back. My mind imagines him telling me that he loved me for the last time before I leave the garage behind and walk back out into the Italian sunshine anticipating my children and Ross to be home soon.
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***
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Widow, it's a term I've heard a fair bit today. Not from those closest to me of course. We are all donned in black attire and it's surely the hardest moment I've had to endure in my life so far. Ross by my side, walking me through the church back out into the Italian sunshine. Meet me in heaven by Johnny cash playing as we walk out of the same church that we buried Jay's father in.
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A burial, next to Andrew Gilbert Scott, was Claire's choice and I couldn't ever have thought of anything more apt myself. Claire has been utterly beside herself, propped up the entire time by Christopher who is holding her back from the coffin. Her only child, her son, it's an unimaginable loss. Upon our reunion at the farm house she held me for what felt like hours, on the lounger in my kitchen as we both sobbed. Before she saw his wedding ring around my neck, she smiled as I told her about the briefcase and my experience of opening it. Desperately hoping to give her some kind of peace.
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Matthew has been contacted by all of us, myself included, but none of us have managed to get ahold of him and so consequently Kimberley had arrived alone. She opted to look after the children at the farmhouse, and I thanked her profusely for watching a newborn and three under five year olds.
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The missing of his presence at the funeral has hit me; I'm not sure anything could ever be enough for me to forgive him for it. Claire, Jay’s mother had asked for him directly. Perplexed that his longest friend hadn’t attended his funeral. I ponder that myself as I look over at the coffin being lowered into the dense ground slowly and wipe my eyes, Ross' hand on my back. Grief takes you places and I've never been so angry in my life. Anger is not the word I would attribute to this fury, swirling deep inside of my gut. It sits on top of the pain and remorse. The misery that can only be experienced by having to tell your two children that their father is never coming home. That he loves them and misses them dearly but has flown up to live in the sky with grandad.
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"It was the perfect service" I whisper trying to remain coherent as the remains of my love gets lowered into the earth.
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"It was" he whispers and I wipe my eyes, shaking slightly.
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"I've got you" he whispers before I descend into hysterics, my black dress buttoned up to my neck. Our wedding bands are all on the chain around my neck, joint together. The tattoo of his initials over my wedding finger clearly visible.
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"I've not got this, ross" I sob having visions of crawling into the coffin and holding his body together and begging him to wake up. Instead Ross pulls my head into his chest as I cry uncontrollably all over his black shirt.
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"No" I hear Claire cry as I lift my head up feeling Ross' hand on my back. My eyes weepy taking in her leaping towards the six foot hole in the ground. Her heels barely managing in the mud, as Christopher swoops in and catches her around her waist. She sinks down onto the dense ground and sobs.
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"Here" I say softly taking a few steps over to my mother in law, raising my arms and pulling her into my embrace.
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"But why?" She sobs almost incoherently and I think of the amount of times I've asked that question myself.
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"Taylor I'm so sorry" she gasps looking into my red rimmed eyes as I hold her small body and try to comfort a person whose pain is too much for them to handle.
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"I'm so sorry he was your son, and he was my entire world" I whisper softly as we watch the earth being shovelled over the oak coffin. Buried in the Italian countryside next to his father, I can only hope I've managed to put him to rest in the way he would have wished as Ross lifts me up from the ground over an hour later. Christopher gently raises Claire from her knees and assists her over to the mustang.
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Jay left with no expression of his wishes and so his assets fall to Henry, including the entire business in Dubai. Of course Henry being five is not ready to be a CEO, the business consequently is in utter crisis as Claire is also unable to fulfill the role considering the circumstances. It has been left under the instruction of Andrew Gilbert Scott's closest friend, right hand man and Jay's current COO John.
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Claire advised me that it's a temporary measure, that she intends on taking control once she has had time to mourn. Ross settles me into the Lamborghini before climbing into the drivers side and following the red mustang along the dirt track, leaving the church behind as I settle my breathing and clear my eyes of tears. The sun sitting right on the horizon line as it colours all of the trees with its light.
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Gazing over at Ross, his eyes full of concentration and worry as he looks out of the windshield, I tell him I need a cigarette and he looks down at me slightly warily before telling me that they're in his jacket pocket. I haven't smoked in years, it's a one off isolated event and I need to steady my breathing. To close my eyes and imagine that today hadn't had to happen. I pull the small packet out of his breast pocket and light up two, handing him one as we crack the windows down and smoke.
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The olive trees breeze past us and I inhale pushing the tears back. Looking at the stunning farmland and the sun setting over it; reminding myself of the first time Jay and I marvelled over the farmhouse. How we had visited it and bought it on the first day we saw it; fuelled by a vision of our future. Dreaming like two children of making our own wine company, of him working the land and turning profits in the produce he made. The CEO/farmer I think to myself smiling and telling myself that our vision, our dreams can live on through me. Clutching onto the rings around my neck as the sun slips below the horizon and the light reduces; I tell myself that I will not let it all be for nothing.
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