"Evalyn!"

"What?! What is it?!"

Elliot was not used to the harsh tone. They rarely argued, and never about anything so personal.

"Can't you just reconsider? Think on it a little more?"

"I've thought on it enough already! I'm going to work!"

Evalyn made for the doorway, the dark field jacket still half a size too big for her. Or at least, it seemed so to Elliot. Such a symbol of responsibility he could still not picture on her shoulders.

"Then you haven't thought enough! At least give it a day!"

"Shut up shut up shut up!"

She gripped the door handle tighter.

"He was your father for fuck's sake!"

"He was not!"

She silenced them both. Elliot had no coherent response to such a statement. It was not something he could so freely comment on.

He had seen it happen.

He knew how that had left her.

"He wasn't. He wasn't my...."

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He could see those same shoulders shaking. He could feel the pain marring his wife's face without even having to see it. She was holding it in brilliantly as she often had in the past.

Old habits died hard.

"He wasn't. I get that Marie is more of a parent to you than he ever was."

"Don't do this, Elly."

"But along with the man that died today, the man that married your mother and decided to have a child with her died as well."

"Don't do this, please."

"The man who Marie called her closest friend, the man who had a chance to redeem himself if life had let him live a little longer."

"Don't do this!"

She shouted.

"I'm doing this because you matter to me!"

He shouted back.

"I know you don't give a flying fuck about yourself sometimes, but that's because it's also my job. I don't care if it sounds like I'm telling you to go to his funeral just so I can feel better in knowing that you did. I'm doing this because I want you to have some closure, so you feel like you can leave it in the past."

"I left the past behind the day I chose to spend the rest of my life with you instead of him."

"No you didn't."

"And why are you so sure?!"

Even in response to her screams, the sternness in his voice caramelised into something gentle, but equally as caring.

"Because you're still a Hardridge, and not a Maxwell."

There was no bitterness, only his acceptance of something she refused to admit. She did not look back, but her head softly thumped against the door, and her shoulders began to shake even more.

He approached her, reaching towards her unsteady shoulders in an attempt to comfort, but she spoke before he could.

"When I come back, help me visit his grave."

He smiled, his palm finding her.

"Just promise me you won't try to desecrate it."

She turned and kissed him. Softly, and not for very long.

"I can't bring myself to hate him that much. It's been five years, and too much has happened since."

She rested herself on his chest as she spoke, and he pulled her closer.

"Colte's waiting for me. I'll talk to you soon."

She left his embrace and made for the door, turning at the last moment to give a grateful smile.

"I love you."

The door closed, and Elliot's response was wasted on an empty room.