Until The End

Alex rings the doorbell. Sheila is standing by her side, discreetly holding her hand behind their backs, and murmuring that everything will be okay. She's got a brilliantly white smile, the sun framing her short, soft curls in gentle yellow light. Her eyes sparkle with the anticipation of a great adventure to be had, excitement making her skin glow. Alex stares at her and feels like a dull piece of furniture, but a damn lucky one. The door knob begins to turn, and Sheila gives her lover's hand a final squeeze before dropping it. She picks up the wine bottle at their feet and smiles brightly as the door swings open.

Alex scratches the back of her head. She's just rung the doorbell, and is almost hoping that no one answers. No one shares the step with her. The sky is cloudy, a washed out grey, and she's tugged a beanie over her brown hair because she hasn't washed it in far too long. She holds her coat tightly around her, mourning her broken zipper, and bounces on her heels. The door creaks open, and a small, stern looking woman opens the door. "Yes?" She frowns when seeing Alex.

"H-hi, Mrs. Darby." Alex smiles, wearily. "I brought some wine, if you'd like it. I just wanted to come and say hello."

Sheila's mother blocks the doorway. "Why?"

"Um." Alex looks away anxiously. "I just-- I haven't seen you since before the whole... You know, and-"

"Sheila's death. You can say it." Mrs. Darby's voice has adopted a hard edge, a steel that only comes from experience. The touches of grey hair spiraling from her temples are angry warning signs.

"O-okay. Then, I haven't really seen you since Sheila passed, and I just wanted to see how you were holding up." Alex shuffles her feet awkwardly. "I have wine."

"You already said that. We don't want your wine." She folds her arms, barricading her chest. "It's your fault that she died. She wouldn't have been on the street that night if not for your laziness."

Alex flinches, biting her lip to keep it from wobbling. "With all due respect, ma'am, I offered to drive her home from work that night." She stares at the concrete. "You didn't let me come to the funeral."

"Family only. It said so on the invitations. Death is a private matter, and we don't need you sticking your nose where you don't belong."

"I'd know that if I got an invitation." Alex takes a deep breath. "Listen, I'm sorry. I didn't come here to argue with you. I wanted to... Settle some affairs. Please, can we talk?"

Mrs. Darby peers at her visitor down her nose, seeming put out. "Fine. But you'll need to make an appointment. It's rude to just pop up at peoples' houses like this. I'll see you tomorrow."

Alex gives a relieved sigh. "Thank you so-" The door slams shut on her words. "Much." Shoulders slumped, Alex stumbles back to the car, leaving the wine on the doorstep. She'd never even liked the stuff. It'd always been Sheila's drink of choice.

However rude the encounter had been, Alex was sure that it was a good step forward that Mrs. Darby had even opened the door, let alone offered to see her. Alex straps herself into the car, fixing her hands on the steering wheel at ten and two positions. She takes a deep breath, and begins the drive home.

***

Alex opens the door to the apartment, calling out, "Honey, I'm home!" She uses her best husband voice, spreading her arms out for the embrace she's come to expect.

Sheila dashes around the corner, wrapping her arms around Alex and pulling her into a tight hug. Their cat, Marlow, is hot on her heels, weaving in between their legs. "I missed you." Sheila nuzzles into her girlfriend's neck, pressing a kiss into the skin.