11AM

Dillon arrives in his car, alone. Today he is saying his final goodbye to Susan, the woman he planned to spend the rest of his life with. He turns the engine off, rests his head back on the car seat and takes in a long and slow breath. He feels the emotion of wanting to cry, but there's nothing left in him. He takes a long look in the car mirror. Tiredness is clearly on display, evident in the dark circles under his eyes and pale skin of his face.

He is going to find it hard to say goodbye. He lowers his head to his chest. He takes in a few deep breathes and memories come back of the first meeting they had together. Dillon was in the same class in school as his future wife's sister, Carly.

Carly never liked Dillon and to this day, he would say that she still doesn't. But today he will be nice to all of his sister-in-laws. It was strange; he grew up a lonely child. He had been a single child who spent more time alone rather than being with others. But as soon as he met Susan, his life changed for the better.

Susan had come to collect Carly from math class. Dillon remembers it well because of the smell. It might have been a strange statement, but true nonetheless. It was the perfume that immediately pulled Dillon's attention from his math book and towards the red-haired and most would say plain looking girl. Her hair was a sun in a makeshift bun and a long stick was put through it to hold it in place. For some reason, she looked at him and they held each other's gaze for a moment in time that will last forever in his memory.

Eleven years it took from that first meeting for a wedding ring to go onto her finger and it was well worth the time spent. A rare but incredibly special smile appears on Dillon's face. It was at this moment he decides to get out of his car and he grabs his jacket before pushing the door closed. He looks up at the Petticoat Lane Funeral Parlour. He puts his hand in the inside of his jacket pocket to confirm that the speech is safe and then he goes into the abyss of the events that are still to come.

11:15AM

The funeral of his wife is set for 12pm so he knew he was there with plenty of time to spare. He opens the double doors, ignoring the service room on his left and heads down the carpeted floor towards the family quiet room. He opens the door and turns to close it. He plans on staying here until he will be needed to do the eulogy, to talk about his wife. It was sure to be a painful moment in his life and for anyone to have to do. It also hurts to know that his wife was only twenty-seven years old. He tries to settle his thoughts.

"It wasn't your fault," came a voice from the room which sounds like his deceased wife. Dillon turns in the direction of the voice and he sees Carly, his sister-in-law lying on a chaise lounge chair. Dillon has to shake his head to clear the thought of his diseased wife's voice coming from the room.

"Christ, you sounded just like her then," he accused.

"Well, that doesn't surprise me really. We're sisters and even in death that's still true." Carly swings her legs around to sit upright on the chair. "Dillon, please come sit by me," she pleads as she pats the seat next to her. He looks at the woman in the black dress, beckoning him towards the seat.

"Carly, today of all days I can't handle your mixed up mind."

"I am not mixed up, I am a grieving sister. Well sister-in-law in our case."

Dillon begins to pace the room, agitated. "What the hell are we doing, Carly?"

"Well, I thought that part was obvious. We're here to lay a loved one to rest." She gets up and moves in towards Dillon's personal space.

"If I wasn't with you that day she might still be alive." Dillon stated whilst pointing a finger straight at his sister-in-law.

"We were hit by a car! How do you know what would've happened?" She grabs the pointed finger in her hands and uses a gentle bit of pressure to influence the hand onto her hip. They hold each other's gaze.

"You are a drug that I am addicted to. I loved your sister," he whispers. "I love your sister."

"And so do I." She rests her head on Dillon's rather broad shoulder. "I know we can't keep doing this and I know we will have to stop, but for now will you just hold me, please?"

"We already are," came an immediate reply. Dillon closes his eyes and the perfume that his wife wore fills his nose. "You're wearing her perfume," he mutters.

"I hoped that it would comfort you."

"To be honest, at our age, I don't think these scenarios are regular occurrences." The pair once again gazes at each other. As they do, they move closer towards each other and come together in an embrace. Dillon pulls away. "You don't even like me," he reminds her.

"I know and I don't understand what has happened to us but it has happened and it is happening."

Without noticing, the two had begun to spin in a circle that maybe they both subconsciously wanted to end up close to the red chaise lounge chair. "I found this very comfortable whilst I was waiting for you."

"I told you not to wait for me, I told you it was over."

"I still don't like you, Dillon. My sister could've done much better than you and I still stick to that."

"So why?"

"I don't know." Carly closes the gap but Dillon meets her half way and they kiss.

11:30am

Dillon is led on his back with his head resting on the chair with his eyes closed. His arm is wrapped around his sister-in-law, to keep her from falling off and to also keep the smell as close as possible.

"The family will start to arrive soon."

"I know they will. But for now we have this room to ourselves and we have each other," replies Dillon.

"Then, what do we do?" she asks, nervous.

"To that question my sweet smelling Carly, is the answer of our 'Pivotal Moment.'"