But Elizabeth’s question wasn’t pushy or manipulative, just honest. Gwen considered for a moment. The house was large, and refusing would be unnecessarily harsh, especially with the funeral coming up. “Alright,” Gwen agreed quietly. “You can stay a few days. I wouldn’t want you to miss the service.” Elizabeth smiled, looking genuinely grateful. “Thank you. I mean it.” That night, Gwen prepared the guest room, laying out fresh linens and towels. She went through the motions quietly, unsure how to process the new sense of civility between them.
The next morning, Gwen found Elizabeth at the kitchen table, already awake with a mug of tea. The air was calm, not awkward, just a kind of mutual understanding. “Sugar?” Elizabeth offered. Gwen nodded, surprised by the simplicity of the moment.
They drank in silence. Afterward, Gwen cleared the table, but Elizabeth started wiping the counters. “You don’t have to do that,” Gwen said. Elizabeth shook her head. “It’s better than just sitting around.” Gwen understood—sometimes, staying busy was the only way to bear the weight of loss.