Later that day, Gwen gathered paperwork for the church and paused as Elizabeth hovered nearby. “Need help?” Elizabeth asked. Gwen hesitated, then handed over the guest list. “If you want to cross-check some names, that would help.” For nearly an hour, they worked quietly. Elizabeth didn’t criticize or question Gwen’s choices. She marked missing phone numbers, circled details, and passed the list back with a small nod. For the first time, they worked side by side, not as adversaries, but as reluctant partners.
That evening, they ate leftovers at the kitchen island, conversation focused mostly on funeral arrangements. Elizabeth offered to help choose the hymns, and Gwen accepted, surprised at her willingness. The next morning, Gwen noticed the trash bins had been rolled to the curb. Elizabeth didn’t mention it. Gwen said nothing either, but the quiet act stayed with her.
In the afternoon, Gwen sat at the kitchen table with an old photo album, lost in memories of Albert—his laugh, his steady presence. The house felt colder without him, but for once, not entirely lonely.