So today Tina had passed the box back and forth in her home and each pass had stolen a glance from her every now and then. Until she finally picked it up and placed it on the table. She hadn’t moved from that spot in almost two hours.  His name was written across it with a black marker as though he was someone anonymous to them, like he was just another body to get through the day. This thought alone disturbed Tina, and the mere sight of the crest of the funeral home at the top of the box  angered her even more. So instead of opening it she just wanted to look at it, something in her didn’t want to disturb it.

After feeling the soft strokes from Alice’s hands on her stomach she seemed to propel herself forward. The loss of the warm hand was missed but she needed to get this box open if only to look at the simplicities they placed in the box. She unfolded the flaps and saw right on top of the suit he’d worn, his cufflinks.

…………………………

“Do you even listen to me when I talk to you or is this just another way to have me repeat myself later?”

“I can hear you.”

“But are you listening to me?!”

“This is such bullshit! You nag and nag and nag me all day long like I’m a child or something.”

“Sometimes I feel like I am talking to a child instead of a grown woman.”

She turned her head with a scoff and finally yelled in return, “Fuck You!” she got up and left for the second time that day. Not knowing that she was putting a bigger strain on her relationship.

Bette watched as she snatched her coat off of the couch and slammed her door shut. The reverberation of the slam practically shook the house. That was not what compelled her next action, no, it was the sound. She’d heard that door slam to many times before, with her girlfriend’s retreating figure on the other side. The sound of the door slamming into the insulation and the echo throughout the walls broke her final nerve.