The Dress

Chapter 10

I grieved. And that was all I could do. Grieve.

I grieved for the love I lost. I grieved for the feelings I couldn't feel anymore. I grieved for the loss of half of my heart. Love was something I couldn't feel anymore— that warm, fuzzy spark that lit up my heart was gone. Now all there was in my chest was emptiness. It literally felt hollow there, and I was having a hard time breathing as my chest tightened. But the physical pain was all I could feel. I couldn't feel anything emotionally.

I stood in a black lace dress with the skirt flying to the side by the strong wind and held a black umbrella in my right hand. The black veil covering my eyes hid the numbness I felt. I was the closest to the tombstone.

Although I couldn't see why Alice, Esme & Carlisle would insist on adding "father" to the tombstone, I didn't mind putting that there. I placed my free hand on my still-flat stomach, closing my eyes as I continued listening to the priest talk about how loss was handled and how Edward was in good hands now. Finally, he stopped.

I opened my eyes to find him turning to me.

"Do you have anything to say, Mrs. Cullen?" He asked softly.

I nodded and I stood at where he stood before everyone who were in attendance. I hated seeing everyone together on such an occasion. Esme hugged Carlisle as she sobbed into his shoulder, Rosalie held a handkerchief as the man whom I assumed was Emmett had his arm around her in comfort and Alice cried hard as Jasper whispered words in her ear, carrying Peter who was crying for the first time ever since I saw him.

I had this poem memorised by heart since it was one of my favourites ever since I first heard my elementary school teacher recite it to my whole class when I was in first grade. It stuck to me like glue and in every notebook I kept, it was always written into them. This poem was written a few years later, but I didn't care.

I took a deep breath.

"Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village, though;He will not see me stopping here. To watch his woods fill up with snow." I said the first stanza, my voice starting to shake when the first stanza was almost done.

"My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year."

"He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake."

"The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep."

I heard no sobs, no cries, no whispers. I looked up and saw everyone staring at me. Those who cried seemed to have stopped the sobbing sounds they made and listened to the poem. A single lone tear traced down my cheek.

"I'm sorry." I told all of them at once and moved away back to where I stood before. I thought I felt something cold hold my free hand and I looked to the side, but no one was there and the cold thing was still holding my hand. I then figured out what it was and squeezed his hand back, comforting myself.

The funeral ceremony was done and everyone hugged me, sending condolences. I then couldn't feel his hand anymore and shut my eyes tight, stopping the tears from falling. One was enough.