Elizabeth Corday stood impassively as person after person came up to her, offering their condolences for her husband's death. Couples. What she and Mark had been. She appreciated everyone's kind words, but none of it did anything to alleviate her grief or fill the aching hole in her heart.
Finally the only people left in the long string were Peter and Cleo. She saw him say something to her, and Cleo nodded and stayed where she was.
"Hey, you okay?" Peter said when he reached Elizabeth, gently touching her arm.
"Honestly, I'm not sure," she chuckled dryly. "It's so surreal with everybody coming up and asking me how I am and saying nice things about Mark like he's gone. And, I mean, I know he's gone, but it just doesn't feel like he's gone to me. You know, He's left me with all of these things. There's bills to pay, a closet full of his clothes, his sporting goods, I mean what am I supposed to do with all of this stuff? He's just left me with all of this crap and it really pisses me off!"
Elizabeth sighed and put her face in her hands. When she began talking again, her voice was quiet.
"I'm so angry with him for leaving us. It's just so unfair. I feel guilty, you know, I feel terrible for having these feelings. I mean, he's dead. He didn't want to die! Oh God, what's the matter with me?"
She put her face in her hands again. Peter didn't move to touch her, just waited patiently as she continued.
"It's just not fair. It's not bloody fair," she muttered.
"No, no, no, it's not," Peter shook his head.
"I'm not going to cry again," Elizabeth said, fighting back tears. "I've done enough of that already."
"I'm sorry," she choked as Peter put his arm around her. She pressed her face into his chest. A sob escaped her and he ran a hand up and down her back.
"It's alright," he soothed, and planted a soft kiss in her hair. "It's alright."
He let go of her after a moment.
Elizabeth sighed. "Well, that's that."
They stood in silence until a voice from the hearse called, "Elizabeth, are you ready to go?"
"Yeah," she replied, her voice still thick with tears.
"Thanks," she said to Peter.
"Sure," he responded, letting his hand linger on her back as she turned away from him to go. His heart
clenched as he watched her put on the mask she always wore when facing the world. She was always so, so brave. Even when she didn't have to be.
