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“Okay,” I say.

I jump when someone touches my shoulder.

“We need to go,” Danny says. Reality slams into my chest like a bullet, breaking skin and blood vessels. I cry for Samuel because he didn’t deserve this. He had friends, he had a good life, and this funeral does not celebrate the man who was better than all of this.

After we say our goodbyes to Paul and Ma, we climb into the car. Danny and I sit in the back and Johnny drives. We move through the cemetery with slow ease and I find myself growing so angry I can’t contain it.

“He didn’t deserve this,” I say.

“There are a lot of things he didn’t deserve,” Danny responds.

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing. I’m just saying…”

“Saying what?” I ask. “What are you saying?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t want to argue with you.”

“Oh, you don’t? Well, I don’t give a fuck what you want. I didn’t want to lose my husband. I didn’t want to become a widow at thirty-one!” My hands shake.

“Quiet, Bexley.”

“Don’t you fucking tell me to be quiet!” I shove him and I can’t control myself, so I start hitting him on the arms, on the head, everywhere.

“It should have been you!” I scream as tears fall from my eyes. I hit him until my hands ache, until my arms grow tired and he has to stop me.

“It should have been you.” I sob as he holds me. “Don’t touch me!” I shove away from him. “Stop the car, Johnny.”

“Bexley,” Danny says, his voice filled with as much pain as I feel.

“I said stop the goddamn car!”

Johnny does as I ask, and I yank open the door, running as fast as I can away from them. The cold wind slaps me in the face and my lungs burn, and then I’m yanked into the air.

“No, no, no,” I say, fighting him.

“Please stop, love,” he urges me, putting his face in my neck.

My heart freezes like the artic wind has swept over it. I shove him away again, looking at him with rage. My chest heaves, my heart pounds, my soul weeps. “Everything is gone,” I say. “Everything.”

“Everything is not gone. Life has changed, Bexley. When the apple is ripe, it will fall.”

“Don’t give me that shit. This didn’t have to happen.”

“I know,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“I loved him, Danny. I loved him.”

I cross my arms as the snow falls around us. “I had it all. I had the white fence and everything.”

“You’ll have it again.”

I shake my head. “No. That doesn’t happen twice.”

“You don’t know what the future holds. None of us do.”

“This is our future, Bex. I’m going to paint the fence and fix the porch. You want a red door? I’ll paint that, too.” Samuel holds his arms out, proud of his purchase. I can’t help but smile at his excitement. He looks down at me, and in one quick move he scoops me up, twirling me around. I laugh out loud, feeling his scratchy beard against my cheek.