"No, it shouldn't," Neil agrees, but it is. It's something they know too well, and that's been too close to both of them. At least they have each other, which is something, but that doesn't make it better, not really. That just makes it a little easier to drag themselves out of the mire of grief when they have to keep existing.

He keeps holding her close and tight, like he can squeeze the sorrow out of her. Like his soft joy can bring things around for her--though he refuses to speak of it, now, when she's barely holding herself together as she is.

"C'mon," he says. "Sit down, I'll make you tea."