We Meet Again (Sequel to Without You)

Funeral

Harry's POV
I watch the back of my office building fill up. People - some faces that I don't even recognize - enter through the gate, offer condolences to Liam and Niall, who are standing near the gate and move on. I feel sick right now. This is not a party. This is not a gathering. It's a funeral. My beloved's funeral. However, these people who are casually strolling in, are not here to grieve. Heck, I don't even think they feel one ounce of sorrow. Why would they? What did Mus mean to them? Nothing. She was my world. My life. Now she's gone. I fought and fought, tried to beat the odds, but my efforts were in vain. I'm a helpless bastard, who couldn't help his world. I couldn't save my world. I let it crash and burn. This is suit is stiff and too extravagant. I just want to curl up into a ball, sit in my room in a corner and cry. That's all that I want to do. That's all that I've been doing for the past two days. I tried my best to put this off. I don't want to see Mus be put into a coffin and then buried. I want her to stay with me. I want to be able to walk into a room and touch her, feel her; even though she won't respond to my tender touches. It's a disgusting thought, but pleasing at the same time. A pigeon crashes against the window, pulling me out of my thoughts. I suck in a sharp breath and rush toward the exit. Another wish of Mus': Save a dying creature, or an injured animal. I reach the place where I saw it spiral downwards. Sure enough, the pigeon is lying on the ground, flapping his wings helplessly. I understand the poor bird's helpless state. No one can understand that word better than me. It's a baby pigeon, who's just learning to fly.
"Shh...It's fine." I say to the pigeon, lightly touching it's wings. It flaps it's wings, and I move my hand back. Hastily, but gently, I turn it over and it grabs the opportunity; taking flight.
"Harry!" I close my eyes and inhale a deep breath. I turn around to be greeted with Dr. Ross' solemn, yet heart warming face. I hate the fact that I still like the guy, even after what he did to my Mus. He didn't save her. I'm sure he could've tried harder.
"You're out?" Dr. Ross says it like a question, more than a statement. I nod my head curtly. "How have you been...coping with the situation?"
"Like a person who just lost the one person who loved him, trusted him and believed in him." I say, getting up from the ground.
"Sorry," Ross murmurs. "Mus wanted me to give you something." I didn't even realize that Ross is holding a bag in his hand, until he holds it out toward me. Hastily I grab it from him, eager to see what's inside. Mus' diary, the instant camera, her pen, an envelope and a box that's neatly wrapped, is lying inside the bag.
"What's in the box?" I ask Ross.
"I don't know." Ross sighs. "She just told me to give it you, once she...you know, died." He whispers the last word. I nod my head at him, a sign of thanks from me.
"Thank you," I murmur.
"Anytime." Without making any further conversation, I walk past Ross and enter the office again. Before I can bound up the stairs, my eye catches sight of the one person who I've been trying to ignore; Darcy. She enters the gate with Zahra, both of their eyes puffy. They're the real grieving people. Not like the people who are strolling in, chatting and then laughing. I don't think they understand that this is a funeral. I don't know how to face Darcy. I feel like I've disappointed her; I've let her down. After all, I couldn't save her mother; my wife. Mus has told me to take care of her, but I don't know how. Embarrassment takes over me the minute I think about speaking with Darcy. I don't know why though. I have to face her one day or another. Better now than later. I reach my cabin, place the bag on a chair and head back downstairs. The sun seems to be brighter now than before and it hurts my eyes. I don't know if it's because of the deprivation of sleep or because I've been crying too much. Either way, I'd rather be in my cabin now than out here, surrounded by so many people. I walk down the patch of grass that's been covered with a white carpet. It reminds me of my wedding with Mus. We had a similar carpet. The carpet that I had rented for our wedding had tiny, intricate flowers made on it. This one is just plain white.
"Dad." Sighing I look up from the ground. Darcy is standing in the center of the aisle, looking at me with puffy, red eyes.
"Darcy," I whisper. I don't know what to say to her. I don't know what to say or do anymore. Unexpectedly, Darcy runs toward me and slams into me. She wraps her arms around me, placing her cheek against my torso. Hesitantly, I wrap my arms around her. Darcy sniffs and looks up at me.
"Is she really gone?" Darcy's question takes me by surprise. Of course she knows that Mus is gone. However, she too, like me doesn't know if it's real or not. We're both having a hard time accepting the fact that Mus is gone. The fact that she's not with us seems so unreal.
"Yeah, she is." I manage to choke out. Tears threaten to rush down my cheeks yet again.
"Why didn't you do anything?"
"I tried, Darcy. I really did, but I was helpless. I promise you that I will hate myself all my life because I let her go." I say, guiding her toward the back. I don't want other people - most of them strangers - to witness our private affair. This is between Darcy and I. We've lost everything in a few days.
"You don't have to," Darcy says. "It's not your fault. It's no one's. Mamma is - was - a great person and I guess God liked her too. Maybe He wanted to play with her, experience her kindness and love. So he decided to invite her to His house." Darcy smiles a small, sad smile.
"He didn't invite her, He snatched her." I say, trying my best to not sound too harsh. However, Darcy's ideas are wrong. Mus would've never left me and Darcy willingly.
"Dad, your thoughts are very different from mine. I believe in God and you don't. I respect Him and you don't. But that's okay." Darcy takes my hand in hers, the way Mus would. "We don't have to argue over such trivial affairs. We can't. After all, you and I need each other the most nowadays." Her eyes are glistening with tears. Since when does my daughter talk more sense than me? Since when has she gotten the ability to comfort me? Mus left me a guardian angel; Darcy.