“What happened to her?” I don’t answer her at first. I don’t want to say it, but she just keeps staring at me, waiting for me to answer.
“She…she’s…” I stammer like an idiotic little kid. “She died.” My voice is barely above a whisper, I can barely hear myself, but I hope she heard me because I doubt I could say it again.
“I’m so sorry.” She says and I laugh harshly. The sound is hollow and pained and I notice that she cringes slightly.
“For what? You never knew her.”
“But you did. I’m sorry for your loss.” She says to me and I don’t know quite how to reply. “What was she like?”
“Do we have to talk about her?” I hiss through my tears.
“Do you want to talk about something else?” She asks, but I can tell she knows the answer. I don’t want to talk at all and even if we talk about something completely random, I’ll find a way to relate it back to Kat.
“She had your eyes.”
“Yeah. She was so beautiful. I wanted our kids to have her eyes, but…”
“But then she got sick.”