When Tomorrow comes

Part 3 - Where Words Fail

It's been a couple days. The sun was out today, an unusual break in the cloudy weather. James suggested they take lunch outside, hoping the change of scenery might do Emma some good. She seemed hesitant at first, but after a few minutes of quiet convincing, she agreed.

They found a bench at a small park near the office, a short walk away but enough to feel like a different world from the buzz of their workplace. The gentle breeze ruffled their hair as they sat down with their sandwiches, the air filled with the sounds of distant traffic and chirping birds.

Emma unwrapped her sandwich slowly, her eyes lingering on the horizon. She hadn't said much since they left the office, but James didn't mind. He knew sometimes just being there was enough.

After a few bites, she broke the silence. "It's nice out here," she said softly, her voice sounding a little lighter. "I guess I forgot what sunshine felt like."

James smiled, glad to hear even the slightest shift in her tone. "Yeah, I figured we both needed a break from all those fluorescent lights."

Emma nodded, taking another bite. They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the tension between them from earlier starting to fade. Then, out of nowhere, James caught her eye and grinned. "So, random question... Do you think pigeons have any idea how ridiculous they look when they walk?"

Emma blinked, caught off guard. "What?" She furrowed her brow, trying to figure out if he was serious.

"You know," James continued, straight-faced. "The way they bob their heads like they're in a really intense music video. It's like they're the stars of their own world."

Emma stared at him for a moment, then her lips twitched. Despite herself, she let out a small laugh, the sound surprising even her. "James, you're so weird."

"Hey, I'm just saying! I mean, look at that one." He pointed toward a pigeon pecking at the grass nearby, its head bouncing along in rhythm. "It's like they're dancing but no one ever gives them credit."

Emma laughed again, this time a little louder, the sound so unfamiliar after the last few days. It wasn't a big laugh, but it was enough to lift some of the gloom that had hung over her. She shook her head, smiling at him. "You're ridiculous."

James leaned back on the bench, his grin wide. "That's my job, remember? Someone's gotta make you smile."

Emma's smile softened. She looked at him, her eyes searching his face for a moment longer than usual. "Thanks, James," she said quietly. "For, you know... being you."

He shrugged playfully. "What can I say? It's a talent."

For the rest of their lunch break, the conversation flowed a little easier. They didn't talk about her uncle or the funeral—Emma didn't need to. It was enough for her to feel like things were normal, if only for a little while.

It's now 1:24PM, and their break is now over. They walked back to the office, the warmth of the sun lingered in the air, and for the first time in days, Emma seemed a little lighter. There was still a shadow in her eyes, the grief hovering just below the surface, but her mood had shifted, if only slightly.

James noticed the change and felt a quiet relief. They had walked in comfortable silence for a while, the sounds of the city around them creating a kind of white noise, until Emma finally spoke.

"You know," she said, glancing at him, "I think I needed that. to get out of my head for just a little bit. I suppose I drive myself a bit crazy sometimes"

James smiled, keeping his tone light. "I figured the pigeons would do the trick. They're good at that."

Emma laughed softly, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "They really are ridiculous, aren't they?"

He nodded. "Ridiculous, but strangely therapeutic. And, fun fact, Surprisingly clean."

They continued walking, and as they neared the office, the mood started to shift again. Emma grew quiet, her gaze distant. James could tell she was slipping back into her thoughts, the weight of everything creeping back in.

"Emma, I know it's not going to be easy," she said suddenly, her voice softer now. "Even with moments like this... it's still there. The grief, I mean. It's like this constant background noise I can't turn off."

James didn't respond right away. Instead, he slowed his pace, and without thinking, he reached out and gently took her hand. His fingers wrapped around hers, offering silent reassurance. It wasn't a grand gesture, but the warmth of his touch spoke volumes.

Emma glanced down at their hands, then up at him, surprised at first. But she didn't pull away. Instead, she gave his hand a soft squeeze, as if to say thank you without words.

For a moment, they walked like that, side by side, hand in hand. It wasn't romantic in the traditional sense—it was something deeper. A connection that had been there all along but was now starting to surface in small, meaningful ways.

"You don't have to turn it off," James said quietly. "You just have to let it out when it's ready. And when you do, I'll be here. You don't have to do it alone. I was in the exact same position when my parents passed."

Emma's grip tightened slightly, and she nodded. "I know," she whispered. "I'm really glad you're here."

As they reached the office doors, Emma released his hand but lingered for a moment, her eyes searching his face as if weighing her next words. She looked down, hesitating, before finally speaking in a soft voice.

"James," she began, almost too quietly for him to hear. "I know the funeral is coming up soon."

James's heart tightened. He knew it had to be close, but hearing her mention it made everything feel more real.

Emma swallowed hard, clearly trying to keep her emotions in check. "I was wondering... When it happens, would you—" she paused, glancing away as if the next part was difficult to say. "Would you come with me? I really dont think I'll be able to do this alone."

James didn't hesitate. "Of course," he replied, his voice gentle but firm. "Whenever it is, I'll be there."

Emma gave him a grateful, almost relieved smile, but there was still a flicker of sadness behind her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered.

For a moment, they stood there in silence, the weight of the request lingering between them. Emma didn't mention the date, but James knew it wasn't important right now. What mattered was that she asked him if she trusted him enough to lean on him when the time came.

"I don't know what it's going to be like," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But just knowing you'll be there... it helps."

James gave her a reassuring smile. "You won't have to go through it alone, Emma. I promise."

She looked up at him, her eyes soft but filled with gratitude. "I'm glad," she said, her voice trembling slightly but steady. "Really glad."

With that, the two got in the elevator to their floor, Emma gave him one last, lingering look before turning and heading to her office. James watched her for a second as she walked away.