emmaxxdecody-blog

[emmaxxdecody-blog]

Reblog if your rp partners (and followers) are great writers and you love each and every one of their portrayals!

[emmaxxdecody-blog]

consequentson:

Now that the overwhelming task of telling Emma what the day had brought them was done, life had come a little more into focus again; the pain in his body more than the razor edges of heartbreak, but tangible lacerations across his knuckles, on his bottom lip, a small, stinging cut just under his eye. The cold water had slowed the bleeding a bit – the drying tracks of diluted blood down the back of his hand indeed looking worse than it was, mostly because it was night and dim in the kitchen. He thought of Caleb – of finding him and fifty thousand dollars in the cabin… if it wasn’t for the flash of the silver wedding band on his finger, his hands looked a bit like his father’s in the dark.

“Thanks Emma.”  Even distracted, the words were still sincere. No matter how much he hated putting her out, no matter on how small a scale… yet again, here she was; choosing to stay, unlike any other person in his life. Only ever Emma… jesus, he’d never understand – and never be able to articulate – how goddamned lucky… how grateful he was… He squeezed her hands feebly, his own looking bizarrely small in hers for probably the first and last time.

“I, uh… “ He cleared his throat, his voice still sounding to wispy for his liking… too weak. He grimaced, looking down as he followed her movements, complying with however she lead him. “I don’t, uh… I don’t know how bad the – the damage was, if… if it was to both sides of… of their graves, or…”  He usually tried avoiding saying either of their names when Emma was in the same room, reluctant to bring them up for fear of navigating those rocky waters with her again about his family. No matter how Emma felt about his mom and brother these days – they still were his family… he’d sat on that floor of that dining room with the dead for what’d felt like an eternity, struggling to find the will to leave them and rejoin to the living. Ultimately the paramedics had pried the cooling corpse of his brother from bloody, shaking hands – coaxed him back to his feet. Forced him to walk past Norma’s body, propped up and being photographed like some kind of macabre tourist attraction by the investigators around them.

The sight of blood on his hands always triggered these memories again. It was unavoidable – and the knowledge that’d come attached with today’s incident… the fact he was now an orphan, yet another instance was revealed where he’d been blind to a sign Norman’d needed help…

“I  guess…”  His voice filtered out and he tried again after a shallow sigh. “I’ll probably find out tomorrow.”

And Caleb-? Was there even enough of him to be buried? Was that – well, it had to be his responsibility. They’d probably ask him tomorrow, whether he’d want custody of the remains, and if he did, where… what’d he do with them-?

His stomach clenched, nausea forcing bile up his throat. Luckily the feeling passed, but his jaw tingled uncomfortably as he considered his options. (Another fucking funeral.) – He couldn’t put Caleb to rest in White Pine Bay. Not near Norma, no matter what Caleb would’ve wanted. That was all he knew for now.  That, and if the damage was extensive to Norma and Norman’s graves, it’d have to stay… at least for a while, till he could set something aside. He couldn’t justify forking out the money to make any repairs if there was no insurance to cover it – not with how they’d parted with Emma. Maybe he could call the funeral home… see if… if there wasn’t any minimal thing they weren’t responsible for…

Dylan was settling carefully into a foggy haze now, numb but for the sharp twinges of the injuries he’d sustained. Even those were relatively easy to ignore… he’d suffered worse without complaint before.  “Maybe you could – maybe Katie might… might want a go on the swings, at the park – you don’t… you shouldn’t have to deal with… with any of this…”  His fingers twitched in her hands, pulling gently at her again to ask for her to look his way again. “—I could call you when it’s done.” He’d understand her not wanting to hear about anything even remotely to do with Norman… and honestly would be even more afraid if she insisted to stay. This – part of the reason it was so hard to tell her these things was because he knew it hurt him in different ways than it did her, and every time he missed his little brother, it felt like a betrayal to his wife.

Emma was unsure of how to continue as he spoke more toward what had happened to Norma and Norman’s graves. She couldn’t think on Norman for more than a half a second before her chest would tighten and her breathing became irregular. But Dylan needed to talk about it, apparently. Norman’s name rang in her ears despite Dylan not even saying Norman out loud. 

Norman. Norman. N O R M A N.

She wasn’t even aware she hadn’t taken a breath until she felt the ping in her chest, the kind of need of breath she had felt years ago when she quite literally couldn’t pull oxygen into her lungs. She couldn’t force herself to breath though; she knew her eyes weren’t focused, glazed over almost. She was stuck on the fuzz of the towel that had somehow gotten into her hands between her realization that she had slipped from the moment and into her own head. 

She hadn’t heard a single word Dylan had said and she hated herself for it. He needed the attention right now, not her. She didn’t need to make this about herself, not again. She had grown up with everything being about her, about her health, about how she felt. Emma had sworn to put Dylan’s happiness in front of her own the day she married him.

But she was standing in their kitchen, unable to get past a ghost of a boy who had once meant so much to her. Why was this so difficult for her to process? Because, damn it, after all the bullshit and pain and secrets, she had cared for Norman. Norman hadn’t looked at her with a quirked face just because she had an oxygen tank attached to her. Norman had pushed away Gunner that day she had stupidly jumped into the water. He had tried, despite everything wrong with him, to keep her safe. Norman had loved her, as a friend. 

And Norman had killed her mother.

Norman had killed so many people. She knew it was true; Dylan’s hushed cries and clear torment over things his brother had done made that perfectly clear. Her eyes flickered, though still unfocused for a moment. But then, they focused in, a hand sliding over her face. “I...Dylan...I can’t. I can’t do this...” This. Be here. Talk about Norman. But she wanted to help him, to be here for him. What was her fucking problem.

[emmaxxdecody-blog]

consequentson:

“I think I can, uh… I think I can rise to the occasion.”  But not before he had one more kiss – large hands circled her waist, pulling her back towards him a little more firmly as he closed the space between them. He wasn’t quite as gentle as before – just another little jab, another little bit of teasing on his part, as well as him simply enjoying the fact that all those people were gone and he was finally alone with his wife… (for the most part.) He parted with a delicate touch of the tip of his tongue to her lip, and a trail of quick kisses from her lips, to the corner of her mouth and finally the apple of her cheek. “Go rest. I’ll take care of it,” he promised more seriously as they parted and he took a step away. It was a lot of dishes, but his main concern was gonna be putting them away gently enough that he didn’t make too much of a clatter in case Emma (or Katie) decided to nap.

That smile. It had done it just now and it would surely do it again. But damn it, it had broken her in the best way. Her back arched slightly as he pulled her toward him, though she leaned into the kiss. It was a precariously vulnerable position to be in but it was Dylan holding her, kissing her. And she was kissing him back. When he pulled back just a but, his kisses trailed down her lip and to her cheek. She let out a light giggle, something so un-Emma that it almost sounded strange. But it hung in the air for just a moment before a smile truly broke across her face. She pushed back against him and started for their bedroom. “If you’re not finished in 20 minutes, just stop and come lay with me?” But almost immediately, she stepped back toward him and pecked his lips. “Okay, sorry. Thank you.”

[emmaxxdecody-blog]

“i’m just so fucking tired of feeling this way.”

She was in shock. Her brain felt too small for her skull and her chest, too small for her lungs. What had she done? Was she too clingy? Not concerned enough? Had she done something to -- “What did I do?”

[emmaxxdecody-blog]

pregnancy sentence starters.

“ i’m pregnant. ” “ i’m pregnant and it’s yours. ” “ why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant. ” “ are you pregnant? ” “ i need to tell you something. ” “ i have money for abortion. ” “ how much is an abortion? ” “ maybe we can put it up for adoption? ” “ i didn’t ask for this to happen. ” “ what are we going to do? ” “ i think i’m pregnant. ” “ didn’t you use a condom? ” “ i’m not on birth control. ” “ it’s definitely yours, i’m not like that. ” “ i don’t know who’s it is! ” “ are you really pregnant? ” “ congratulations on your pregnancy! ” “ how far long are you? ” “ it’s too late for abortion, i’m sorry. ” “ so who is the babydaddy? ” “ how does it feel to you know be pregnant and all? ” “ are you going to keep it? ” “ do you want to keep it? ” “ did you tell anyone else about it? ” “ we can raise it. ” “ we can keep it. ” “ i am not going through with this. ” “ what are the options? ” “ what did the pregnancy test come back as? ” “ i need a pregnancy test. ” “ i took a test. a pregnancy test. ” “ did you get the test yet? ” “ get more than one test, too. ” “ it is yours! just as much as it is mine! ” “ i’m pregnant and your going to help me. ” “ i don’t want to tell anyone until i’m twelve weeks. past the risk for miscarriage. ” “ i’m so sorry this happened. ” “ this pregnancy is going to kill me. ” “ i’m ready to give birth already. ” “ how much does a pregnancy test cost? ” “ can you still get pregnant on the pill? ”

[emmaxxdecody-blog]

consequentson:

“Anything…” Dylan reiterated before he closed the distance between them and kissed her, a tugging playfully and gently at her bottom lip when they parted. “– For you.” He’d be happy to clean the kitchen if it meant giving her a break. Funny how what once was a dreaded chore became so much more bearable when you wanted to do it for somebody – to make them happy. Anyway, it’d feel good to have it done, have the house back to normal. Dylan of course understood the allure of Emma Decody, but he still never got over just how very many friends she had now that they’d moved to Seattle. He wasn’t sure he could even name all forty five of them, honestly. 

Dylan all but cut her off with that kiss and Emma was the absolute last one that was going to complain. When he pulled back, ever so slightly, her lip between his teeth, she laughed softly. “Oh, you know how to sweet talk a girl, don’t you?” Emma leaned into him again and brushed her lips against his. “Dishes would make me the happiest woman on the entire planet, Dylan.” She couldn’t stop the smile that crossed her face. “Which is no simple task, as you well know.” All jokes, all smiles. They deserved it. They deserved to be happy.

[emmaxxdecody-blog]

consequentson:

Space. Dylan was terrified of space, but understanding all the same. The words ‘promise you’ll come back to me’ stuck in his throat as he watched her, wishing he were somebody else – somebody who could bring his wife good news at the end of the day; someone who could offer so much more, for her and for their daughter. 

“Okay.”  Dylan lifted said daughter a little higher in his arms. He glanced down; wide blue eyes were staring at him solemnly, a hint of a wrinkle in her brow. “Did, um…” He cleared his throat. “Did you wanna take her, or-?” He wasn’t sure whether space included their daughter or just him. “I mean, I just – if you wanted to, but I can watch her, too, I only…” He trailed off feebly as his eyes fell again, lips turning up at the corner in what was meant to be an apologetic smile but looked more like a grimace.

Emma knew she should have just sucked it up and dealt with it. She could see it on his face, watching as he glanced down to Katie and then back up to her. “I promise, just an hour. I’ll be right back. I’ll...” she inhaled deeply and shrugged heavily, “just go sit in the backyard? I just...I feel like I can’t...” She couldn’t. She didn’t feel like she couldn’t breathe; her chest was tight and her vision was going blurry. “Dyl--?” Why couldn’t she take a solid breath? Her lungs were perfectly capable now. Her breath hitched again, in nearly the same spot.

[emmaxxdecody-blog]

consequentson:

“On one condition.”  It was lucky it was his day off today – whether Emma remembered as much or not. Spontaneous days at home would get him into hot water with his bosses for sure…  “Stop apologizing and realize that you’re rocking this, okay? Please?” He moved forward to rest his forehead gently against hers, lips brushing the tip of her nose. “Katie and me, we’re so lucky to have you, Emma…” A hand left her back to brush her hair behind her ear again, tracing it lovingly before calloused fingers drew a feather-light path across her jaw, lifting her chin. Jesus, if only she could see herself the way he did… she’d gone through so much – more than anyone should have to endure in several lifetimes, and she was raking herself over the coals over nothing. He was so grateful to be her partner in life, that she’d allowed him to stay, to be with her… that she’d chosen him at all in the first place.

“I am rocking this.” Her hands came up to rest under her chin for just a moment, an extravagant gesture for a silly moment. She was repeating it for two reasons. One, so that Dylan knew she had heard him, but two, because she needed to be reminded. As strong and competent as she was, sometimes it was just plain difficult to get things done without slipping away. Katie, classes, keeping up with just being a functioning adult -- shit, had she even washed her hair in the shower this morning? His fingertips brushed her ear, then her jaw, and she swore, for a moment, she saw stars. Dylan was too damn handsome and far too good to her. How had she lucked out like this? So many women claimed that their husbands would die for them, but Emma Decody knew for a damn fact that Dylan nearly had already.

[emmaxxdecody-blog]

send me your url and i’ll post 3-5 icons that sum up my muse’s feelings on yours

[emmaxxdecody-blog]

consequentson:

He could think of a few ideas – but he wasn’t so sure Emma was in the mood to hear ‘em. Instead, he pulled his bottom lip in and tried to shoo the intrusive thoughts from his mind, rubbing her back again. “Can you cut down your courses-?”  He felt awful for not being able to cut his own workload, his job honestly a little in jeopardy with all the time off he’d needed when everything was happening in White Pine Bay, especially since his bosses had just promoted him and then he’d upped and left for weeks. “I mean, I – or I could pick up Katie, I mean in… sometimes there’s less meetings in the afternoons, if I’m just doing paperwork, I could have her in the office – if that would help, I’ll do it. Whatever you need.”  His head dipped, as he tried to catch her eye, brows drawn together in concern. He hated seeing her like this, so down on herself… she didn’t realize how strong she was, how well she was still doing. And this was all without much of Will’s help as of late, the entire revelation of Audrey and Norman causing friction between father-in-law and son-in-law, the older man’s piercing gaze drilling holes in the back of Dylan’s head whenever they were in the same room.

Dylan was trying so hard. Bless this man. He really tried and goodness, did Emma notice. She was fighting every twitching, writhing bone in her body that was whispering, shrieking, and rumbling with the desire to just throw herself into bed and not get up for a week. He dipped his head and she mimicked him, trying to avoid his gaze but in doing so, brown aligned with blue and she relented. 

“I’m sorry. I...I shouldn’t put this on you...you’re working so hard with the promotion and things are going well at work. I’m just being selfish...” She really was and she wasn’t meaning to. “Just...” Emma stepped further into him, her cheek flesh against his chest. “Can you stay home today?”

[emmaxxdecody-blog]

consequentson:

Her soft voice and warm touch were not expected, and he worried for a moment that he hadn’t spoken clearly enough, but then… her lips brushed against his jaw, his head canting ever so slightly to the side out of instinct and he was exhaling slowly, almost evenly. He’d melted at the gesture, shoulders slumping as the ice within him cracked with this last heave of broken breath. His fists unclenched at her back as he inched forward, following her, hands falling more to her waist, palms resting open against her. Thank you. He couldn’t speak just yet, not trusting this moment of ease to last, but jesus, he willed her to know it, lifting bloodshot and shining eyes to hers, so warm and sweet even in the dim light of night. 

Tiredly, his arms circled just a little more firmly around her waist as he prompted her to stop. There wasn’t any more for him to say – he’d said his piece, now, and she… she was still kissing him, still holding him… but he remembered she’d asked him to go to bed, and – he didn’t think bloodstained sheets would be a welcome reminder of tonight, in the morning. 

“I, uh…”  He sniffed again, wet his lips before he pressed them tightly together for a moment, ensuring his semblance of composure would at least last him this sentence. “I should – I should clean up.” He still didn’t sound like himself, and he hated it, but… there it was. There were gauze wraps in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. It’d only take him a minute to wrap his hands and rip off some tape with his teeth – and seconds more to dab at his lip with a very cold facecloth and rinse that out. Ideally he’d shower. He was just so tired and didn’t want to be parted from her for long. He cleared his throat, risking speaking again with a voice that more resembled an actual voice. 

“– I’ll meet you there, okay?” His promise of  not being long was unspoken because it was unnecessary. He didn’t know if it was possible for Emma to understand how much she meant to him, but she had to know at least that much; that she was how he made it through these nights, the way she felt, sounded, smelled, her presence… she helped him dream and live in equal measure and he was so thankful, so unbelievably grateful that somehow she’d chosen him. 

Emma could feel his pull even without looking at his eyes; the way his shoulders slumped into her; the way his hands fell to her waist. He was cracking slowly opening himself to the possibility that she might be able to help, which was all she wanted to do. After everything, all Emma wanted to do was shield him from the pain and help him feel safe. Right now, he was on his way to that, though Emma knew it would be a few hours before his brain would settle enough for them both to sleep. 

She was used to staying up, even if he didn’t realize she was awake. She had checked in on him out in the driveway while he slept in his truck on nights he was too drunk to get inside. She had curled up in the chair in the living room on nights he fell asleep on the couch. Always up by morning, moved back to the bedroom before he stirred, or making coffee in the kitchen so he could get the boost he needed. She was always there for him, even if he didn’t see the process each time.

Leaving Dylan, even if it was just for him to clean up his hands and the mess in the sink was not on Emma’s to-do list. She shook her head against him as he asked her to meet him in bed. “I don’t want to be away from you.” It was, right now, as much for him as it was for her. She knew herself; she knew she was wavering right now. Dylan certainly needed to be close to her. Despite coming across as rather solid and steady, Dylan relied on her and she knew that. She didn’t want to pull away and send him spiraling down again. She had saved him from the bottom too many times to loose him now.

Emma leaned back slightly, her eyes finally settling on his. God, he looked exhausted. So handsome, but so, so tired. “You need rest.” She knew he would want to clean up better than just washing his hands but it was late and he was tired. So focused on his need for sleep, Emma exhaled and stepped back further, breaking his hands from her hips by lifting them with her own. “Let me help?” She tugged the towel off of the holder next to them and stepped toward the sink. “It’s just a bit of blood. It’s not as bad as you think it is.” 

But it was. It was probably worse than he thought, in all honesty.

[emmaxxdecody-blog]

consequentson:

“Yeah. I mean, it’s cozy.”  The wood stove – and the fire pit outside – were both huge draws for Dylan, things he thoroughly enjoyed. Sometimes it was even a little dangerous; made his lids pretty heavy for the drive back home through winding mountain roads… but the smell of burning wood, whatever the grain or species of tree, was cathartic, somehow… the crackling pop of charcoal and steady hum of heat made it all too easy for him to lay back, listen, and drift comfortably. Seemed to both warm and heal, somehow. 

“Hang out for awhile – I’ll see if there’s anything decent to drink or eat, too…”  With a boyish smile, he quirked his head towards their destination and continued onwards, pausing only at the door to hold it open for her. Inside was warmer, thanks to the artificial sunlight, but still humid. The plants were healthy, casting a green tint to the yellow glow around the room – Gunner’s cot was as unmade and messy as ever, empty beer cars serving as poorly improvised ash trays on the floor beside it, but it was otherwise empty. Instead, Gunner was sitting with his back to the plant stand, hunched over a handheld video game. 

“Boss.”  The kid always said the word with a hint of light-hearted sarcasm. He didn’t look up from the screen, not yet noticing that Emma was with him.

“Gunner.”  Dylan merely nodded in turn, looking back Emma’s way, half curious, half apologetic; the dynamic between these two was a little like watching a train wreck in slow motion. He wanted to know why they were familiar with one another, and while he had his suspicions, a part  of him didn’t wanna know all the time. They didn’t really seem like any kind of a match, anyway. Gunner, sadly for him, wasn’t exactly an… intellect? Not that Dylan himself, was, either. (And he was trying very hard not to be reminded that Norman was.) And then there was Emma, sharp as a whip and funny and gorgeous to boot. Seemed a little strange that she was spending her evening with losers like them, but… then Dylan had to remind himself he was trying to start a business from the ground up, here, and that had to be something.

Emma followed, more diligently than she wished for, but that was what you did when someone held the door for you, right? She had never been a proponent of chivalry; she was more than capable of opening and holding the door for herself but somehow, she didn’t get worked up when Dylan did it. It was the lack of pity in his gestures; it wasn’t because she had the damn creature she was dragging behind her. It was just because he was a decent human being. Dylan Massett was a decent human being, despite the less than legal affairs he carried on. But it was just a little weed; it wasn’t like he was running around killing people like Bradley Martin’s father, right? Even if he had, she had heard things, bad things, about Mr. Martin. Certain things were hard to avoid hearing in a town as small as White Pine Bay.

When Gunner acknowledged them, Emma fought the urge to stiffen herself; she tried her best to pull the oxygen tank behind her quietly, but the wheels creaked their all too noticeable creak and Gunner actually averted his eyes from his screen and directly to Emma. “Oh, uh, Emma. Hey.” Emma nodded up. “Gunner.” She looked toward Dylan and reached for his forearm, her fingers wrapping around his arm slightly, just like earlier. She needed a connection to something other than the palpable tension in the air of the awkward that was the loss of her virginity. “Dylan, uh, you said something about food, right? I’m starved.”

Solid diversion, right? She was rolling her eyes in her own mind, though not in real life. It was pathetic, really. But Emma stuck with it, continuing on to the kitchen after her hand fell from Dylan’s arm. Why had she reached for him in the first place? It was as if she needed to show Gunner that she was fine with what happened; but she was, she was the one who had said it was cool but over, right? What the hell was her head spinning for then? It hadn’t occurred to her, yet, that the reason could be Dylan.

[emmaxxdecody-blog]

consequentson:

“Hey…” Dylan let go of her hands, only for one of his own to circle around her waist and travel upwards, rubbing her back, as his other hand lifted her chin a little more. “It’s okay. You’re not.” He smiled, leaning down to kiss her softly, hoping to ease that tremble away. He hated seeing her beat herself up like this. “You’re still a warrior, okay? But even Xena needs sleep – I’m pretty sure – and I know it’s been hard lately, and…”  He knew because a good night’s sleep for him was four or five hours on any regular old day – even before he’d had a baby to look after. He was just up a lot. “Is there anything I can do to help with that-?” And he really meant anything. Whether she wanted an extra something before bed (which he’d be happy to oblige) or if she needed him and his restless self to sleep on the couch or in the rocking chair in Katie’s room for a couple nights… whatever he could do to help.

Still a warrior. How was she still a warrior? She was a basket case. Between Katie, classes, and keeping track everything for everyone, she was trying to squeeze her own self care into her life. It was impossible. How anyone actually kept their marbles while raising a child, let alone more than one, was beyond her, especially right now. “I just...” She exhaled and pressed her eyes shut. “I don’t know how to make things slow down.” Literally and figuratively. She was tired of racing from class to pick up Katie and back home to make whatever meal was next. But somehow, Katie was already 9 months old despite it feeling like they just brought her home last week. She was stuck in a whirlwind with no real way to escape.

[emmaxxdecody-blog]

holypatronus:

drop one in my ask box (let me know if my muse said it to yours or yours said it to mine) ~

oo1. “do you honestly think this is all about you?”

oo2. “it’s not the first time you’ve done this.”

oo3. “and you think that this is okay?”

oo4. “i’m just so fucking tired of feeling this way.”

oo5. “let’s just be friends.”

oo6. “you know i can’t just be friends with you.”

oo7. “whenever i see you with him/her or whenever i look at you in general, i always think: fuck, i messed up.”

oo8. “you’re the one that got away for me.”

oo9. “please don’t leave - i need you in my life.”

o1o. “can’t you give me a second chance?”

o11. “you know that i can’t do this.”

o12. “can’t you just think about how i fucking feel for once?”

o13. “we’re not even together and this feels like a fucking break up.”

o14. “you have a special place in my heart, you know that.”

o15. “fuck, i wish i could just rewind time.”

o16. “i’m so sorry, i really fucked up this time.”

o17. “i promise you, i’ll change!”

o18. “please, please just trust me.”

o19. “it wasn’t what it looked like!”

o20. “i’m not leaving, i’m just not going to talk to you for a bit.”

o21. “i just need to be alone right now.”

o22. “you not talking to me is as good as leaving.”

o23. “just look at me and tell me that you don’t love me anymore.”

o24. “just tell me you don’t love me, and i’ll leave you alone.”

o25. “just put yourself in my shoes, if you were me, you’d know how i feel.”

o26. “if you really did love me, you wouldn’t have done it in the first place.”

o27. “if you really cared about how i feel, even the slightest bit, you’d never do it in the first place.”

o28. “really? at times like this you’re bribing me with food to win my love?”

o29. “as much as i don’t want to leave, i have to.”

o30. “i’m sorry, it’s just the best option for me right now.”

[emmaxxdecody-blog]

penceyprepreject:

( @emmaxxdecody liked for a starter )

“this is a really, really, really bad idea.  let’s just go.”

“I am not taking the blame for this. We are equally responsible for the decision to climb up this fire escape...wait, it’s not breaking and entering if we’re on the roof of the place, right?”

[emmaxxdecody-blog]

[emmaxxdecody-blog]

“Don’t say that.”

“I just...I need some space, Dylan.” It wasn’t for a long time. Just an hour. Some breathing room from a shrieking infant; Emma needed a chance to clear her mind from the burden of a funeral she had attended for a woman who was supposed to be her mother but felt more like a distant memory than anything else. She needed just an hour to walk down the street and listen to her own heart beat in her chest so that she could make sure she was really still alive, that the last 2 years hadn’t been some freak accident she imagined while asleep, or in a coma at the hospital. It was not a reflection, not in the slightest, of the man in front of her. And she prayed to God he knew that.