Something Borrowed

Chapter 43: Insincere is Her Middle name

"I am so sorry for your loss," yet another person said with a curt hug and somber smile as they disappeared back into the crowd.

I stood beside Jennifer, who stood too close for comfort, her shoulder flush against mine as we greeted guests.  It was difficult for me to listen to her sincere, welcoming voice as people offered their condolences.

I could hardly muster a polite smile and nod at each person that passed me.  I knew what they thought of me, a widow, a woman scorned; I was damaged goods without a husband.  I'd look at myself in the same disgusted manner if I were them.

I dismissed myself from the assembly line of well-wishers, opting for a silent open space near Rafael's plot.

It was almost surreal, even thinking it: Rafael's plot.  His beautiful, mahogany casket sat deep in the dirt, covered in the beginnings of dirt and flowers that were dropped by friends and family.

The sight made my throat tight, but I couldn't cry.  I hadn't cried, not since I had found Rafael.  I was numb-or better-I am resilient.  It was a freak incident, or at least that is what the doctors said.

There was nothing I could have done.

It was unprovoked.

But even if I did believe anything the doctors said, I still would have felt the guilt.

I found him.  I saw the look in his vacant, brown eyes.  I wanted to know what his last thoughts were of.  Did he think of me?  Of our future?  Was it painful?  Was it peaceful?  Is he alright, wherever he may be now?  Can he forgive me?  These were all questions I feared I would never have answers to.  And it kept me up at night knowing I'd never know.

I hadn't stopped working at the company since he passed.  My father begged me to take time to myself, but I couldn't.  I haven't slept more than three consecutive hours since his passing.  Things aren't the same in that big house without him.

It no longer feels like home.  Lucie whines every night on his side of the bed before she curls up beside me, where he used to lay, trying to regain the last few precious moments of familiarity of when he used to cuddle her.  Now neither of us received the attention we craved from him.

If only I had taken him back to the doctor.  If only I hadn't let him  talk me out of taking him.  It only I had listened to my gut.

If only.

"How are you holding up?" George asked from beside me, taking me off guard.  I felt a relieved smile pass my features as I embraced him, offering him the most friendly hug of the morning.  He held me at arms length, assessing me.  "You look thinner," he noted, looking at my loose fitting dress as I shrugged sheepishly.  At least I came, I thought to myself.

"I've been better, but I'm going to be okay," I said with a soft smile.  He nodded, his eyes searching the small, private, grassy area before Margaret embraced me, nearly knocking me over.

"Do you need anything?  Do you want me to send the girls over to stay-"

"Hello to you too Margaret," I said with a soft smile, releasing her as she stood beside George.  "Thank you for coming."

"It's what Rafael would have wanted,"Margaret said with a sad smile, her eyes glistening with dears as she dabbed the corners of her eyes.  "It's going to be okay honey," she whispered, embracing me.

I closed my eyes, reveling in the comfort as I felt the first wave of tears hit me since I found Rafael.  For the first time, I cried, and I was not embarrassed, nor did I hold back.  I'd never felt so free.  For the first time in a long time, I wasn't worried about what anyone would think, or say, or do, I focused on me.