No Strings Attached

Chapter Forty Nine

Norma kept her head down as the ceremony began, her emotions an unpredictable storm beneath the surface. The sea of mourners stretched around her, their hushed sobs and sniffles filling the air like a steady, oppressive hum.
The tears that slipped from her eyes were real, but they weren't for George. She felt no sadness for him, no regret for what she had done. But as her gaze lifted, taking in the sight of Christine clinging desperately to an older woman who was also weeping, something inside her twisted. That must have been his mother. A mother who should never have had to bury her son.
The weight of it all pressed down on her chest, heavy and suffocating.
She sat through the remainder of the service in a daze, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her nails pressing into her skin to keep herself grounded. She didn't speak to anyone, didn't acknowledge the quiet glances sent her way. She simply endured, waiting for it to end.
By the time the funeral was over, she felt drained, her limbs heavy with exhaustion. She made her way to her car without thinking, without processing the murmured condolences that floated past her ears. The drive home passed in a blur of dark pavement and the occasional flicker of headlights, but she wasn't fully present for any of it.
It wasn't until much later, when the house was swallowed in darkness, that she realized she was still sitting in the living room, still wrapped in the same black dress.
She had no idea how long she had been there, lost in her thoughts. She stood abruptly, her heart pounding in her chest as she took in her surroundings. The dimly lit living room, the black dress clinging to her like a second skin, it all felt suffocating.
She needed to change before Alex got home. She needed to look normal, to seem okay. He would have questions, ones she didn't have answers to, and she wasn't ready to face them.
Moving quickly, she made her way upstairs, peeling the dress from her body before she even reached her bedroom. She tossed it aside, barely registering where it landed, and grabbed a nightgown from her dresser, slipping it over her head just as she heard the front door open.
Alex was home.
Her breath caught for a moment, but she forced herself to move, throwing on her robe before stepping out of her room and down the stairs at a more measured pace, schooling her expression into something softer.
"Hi, honey," she greeted, her voice light as she descended toward him.
Alex had just hung his coat, his eyes immediately finding hers. "Hey," he said, his gaze searching hers. "How are you?"
She opened her mouth to answer, but the words got caught somewhere between truth and pretense. "I'm..." She trailed off, then let out a dry, almost humorless laugh, shaking her head. "I don't know."
Alex didn't press. Instead, he simply stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her in a warm, steady embrace. She melted into it, allowing herself to sink into the comfort he offered.
After a long moment, he pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on her waist. "Have you eaten?"
She tensed.
"I—" Her eyes flicked toward the kitchen as realization set in. She hadn't. The entire day had blurred together, and she had completely forgotten about dinner.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly, her words rushing out in an anxious breath. "I completely forgot to make something, I can—"
"Norma." Alex cut her off gently, shaking his head. "It's fine. We can whip something up. It's not a big deal."
Her shoulders sagged slightly, relief washing over her, but still, the unease lingered. She nodded, managing a small smile. "Okay."

As they sat at the table, the quiet hum of the kitchen the only sound between them, Alex watched her closely.
"How was it?" he asked gently, glancing up from his plate.
Norma tensed almost instantly, her grip tightening slightly on her fork as she kept her gaze fixed downward. "It was fine," she said, her voice measured, controlled.
But Alex could see the truth in the way her shoulders stiffened, in the way she refused to meet his eyes. There was something she wasn't saying, something weighing heavy on her, but he also knew better than to push when she wasn't ready.
So, instead, he nodded, standing from the table and gathering their empty plates. As he moved to the sink, he offered, "Well, it should be a little easier for you now. Being out in public."
"Yeah," she murmured. The word was flat, hollow, as if she barely believed it herself.
A beat of silence stretched between them before she suddenly pushed her chair back, standing. "I'm...I think I'm gonna head to bed. I'm pretty tired."
Alex glanced over his shoulder, watching her carefully, but he only nodded. "Alright. I'll finish up here and be up in a bit."
She gave a small, almost absent nod before turning away, disappearing down the hall without another word.
By the time Alex finished cleaning up and made his way to her room, the lights were off, and Norma was already tucked under the covers, her back facing the door. He wasn't sure if she was asleep or just pretending, but he didn't ask. Instead, he moved quietly, slipping into the room without turning on the light, going through the motions of getting ready for bed in silence.
When he finally climbed in beside her, the mattress dipped slightly under his weight. For a moment, there was nothing but the soft sounds of their breathing in the dark.
Then, slowly, Norma turned, shifting closer until she was curled into his side. Without hesitation, his arms came around her, holding her close.
"It was really hard," she whispered, her voice so soft he barely caught it.
Alex didn't say anything, just let her speak.
"You should've seen them," she continued, her breath warm against his chest. "There were so many people there...so many people grieving. And his mother...his poor mother..." Her voice cracked slightly, and he felt her fingers clutch lightly at his side.
His grip tightened around her as he felt her tears on his bare chest, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "It was his own actions that led him there," he murmured, his voice steady, certain. "You did what you had to do. You had no choice."
She didn't respond. The words, meant to ease her guilt, only settled heavier on her chest. But she didn't argue. Didn't say anything at all.
Instead, she let herself sink into his warmth, let the steady, grounding rhythm of his heartbeat lull her into a dreamless sleep.