Click for a song to listen to while reading this chapter: How can I love the heartbreak, you're the one I love by Akdong Musician

"Did I scare you, last night?" Irene asks me with an apologetic smile as she holds me up and nuzzles her nose to my forehead. "I had a nightmare. I wish I can tell you it will not happen again but I can never be sure. I will try to restrain myself though. I always do, so do not fear this home, please? I'm sorry."

You have done nothing wrong, why do you apologize? I take a glimpse at her swollen arm that was caused by me and I wiggle myself free from her, adamant to add no more damage at this sleepless lady. Irene, as I have just realized now, bear more than a friendly smile.

"I'm having guests today, do you think you can behave?" She asks as she takes out a whole roasted chicken from her oven.

What occasion is that a whole feast is being personally prepared by this lady?

The answer came like a punch to my gut as I watched Irene in her white silk dress entertain at least fifteen unknown people. They laugh, they eat, and talk relentlessly about Wendy.

“To Wendy, may she rest in peace,” they always say between their fond conversations.

I do not understand.

“Hey, are you okay?” Irene pats my head as she holds a glass of red wine. “Because I feel like I can tear this whole place apart,” she adds in a mutter.

The feast lasted long enough for me to understand that it has been forty days since Wendy drew her last breath and this is their way to celebrate because it is said that on her 40th day, the soul finally reaches the gateway to heaven.

Well that’s a strange way of seeing it, and maybe I wasn’t the only one thinking so.

By 8:30 pm, everyone has finally left and the mansion is still as ever, except for Irene who is now left to clean the dishes herself. Her sister-in-law offered but she declined the offer and bade them farewell with an obvious growing impatience.

We are alone once more, and I can only watch Irene take in the silence, the cleaning chores that she now has to do - and the death of her beloved.

Her shoulders shake as her long fingernails dig into her tiled counter. Her eyes scan the plates to wash. "Who do I even do this for? Will this assure me anything?" Out of nowhere, she pushes the dirty plates to her deep sink, causing some to break in pieces.

"Don't come in here. You might hurt yourself." She whipped her attention at me, and carried me to her room. Her hands were shaking and I knew then and there that she can no longer hold it together.

I stare up at her as I sit alongside her on the bed while she clamps and restrain herself from making any sound. Her tears pour endlessly. I have never seen such pain that raw and yet it feels familiar. One like mine.

I curl beside Irene and her free hand my back. "I am despicable. I could not bear their smiles as they reminisced about her. How do they do it? Move on from all of it, accept that she is no longer here?”

She stutters, she draws in a shaky breath and when that wasn’t enough, she pushes the lamp off from her bedside table in hopes that it can make her feel better. But it doesn’t, be