Will This Ever End?

Two annoying hours had passed.

Two unplanned hours of going from casket to casket because Ken and Whitney could not agree on which of the caskets to buy. If he didn't know how much she cared for Stefflon, he might have thought she was trying to jeopardize her friend's chance of getting a proper burial in a decent coffin.

Ken's patience was wearing out. Whitney, for some ridiculous reason, refused to let him have his way with any of the choices he made. She had gone on and on about how much Stefflon would not have loved a plain white or brown coffin.

"How about that blue one over there?" she asked. "Stefflon would've loved it."

Ken let his hand fall to his face, he squeezed at the frustration building inside him. Is she bullying me? "Stefflon was a grown woman, not like Whitney." He gritted his teeth. "Why would she want to be buried in a…" He gave the casket an intense death stare. "Why would she want to be buried in a coffin that looks like that?"

"Because she wanted to return as the sky." Yep! Ridiculous! "Trust me, Ken. Stefflon would agree with me if she were here." She gave him a stern stare and flickered her lengthy brows ridiculously. "And I wonder if you're all acting like you knew jack about what she likes or disliked."

Ken would call it bullshit. The Stefflon he knew would never concern herself with such silliness. There was no part of her like that and he was certain. "She is not here anymore, Whitney. We should pick something less shabby and more respectful of her status. We cannot bury her in that."

Usually, Whitney was collected and very logical, that was the very reason her behavior infuriated Ken the more. If she was not intently trying to agitate him then what in the world was she doing? Bullying him?

"We should go to another shop." She said it as if it was nothing. "I think it is a better option as they do not have any coffin, we both would like for Stefflon."

Ken placed his hands on either side of his breath. He let out a short-frustrated breath.

Anger, tiredness, frustration —whatever it was, it got to the brim. "I do not have time for this Whitney. We have spent hours here and as such we must make a choice now. I have other…"

"Other things to do?" Other preparations to make for the funeral. "You know, Ken? I do not know why I am even surprised. My friend, your wife, she is in the morgue alone, breathless and frozen, and what? You do not have time to pick out a coffin for her?"

In truth, that was not what he meant. Whitney had her harsh way of judging him and making him feel guilty even though he knew within himself that he had done nothing wrong. She just had her way of making him feel like a terrible person. To her, he was all shades of monstrosity.

"Listen, I only meant I have more things to prepare for her funeral," he explained. "There is a limited amount of time to do that, I cannot afford to waste more time in this coffin shop and I am sure Stefflon would not have wanted us to argue about things like following her death."

She smirked. Then a heavy frown rested on her face. "Don't pretend as if you cared about Stefflon or what she wanted, you only cared about yourself and the thing you wanted. You were breaking her apart and yet you never noticed how much you hurt her and now you're sounding like you cared. "

"I did care about Stefflon, she was my fucking wife for years," he retorted and it was the truth. Love was an overstatement but deep down, he knew he truly cared for her.

"If you did, then why did you ruin her life?" Whitney removed her shades again and Ken could sense the genuineness in her question.

She was not trying to accuse him. She truly believed he had ruined Stefflon's life. "Why did you ruin her life?"

Ken wanted to tell her he never ruined Stefflon's life. He would never intentionally do that to her. Yet when he opened his mouth there was no single word ready to summon itself in his defense, he swallowed the air.

Swallowed the looming defeat even before it took shape.

"Do you know how many times Stefflon called me complaining about you?" she gasped. "Do you know how many times she cried over the phone and in the office because of you? What the heck makes you think you are better suited to make decisions for her than I am."

Tears rolled down her face. "Do you even know what her favorite color was? What she wanted to come back as when she died?" She paused and sniffled. "Stefflon wanted to be the damn sky when she died and even then you are standing in the way of what she wants. What did she ever do wrong to you, Ken?"

Everything, Ken wished he could spit out the answer in the same way he thought it. It made sense to a degree, Whitney's intense dislike for him, it was all fueled by Stefflon. How far exactly had she gone and what other horrible things had she told Whitney about him?

It didn't matter anyway. It didn't matter enough for him to try and defend himself. It wasn't necessary. "You're right." He pushed his hair back. "You should be the one to choose her casket. Turns out I never really knew my wife although we had been married for three frigging years."

He did not wait for Whitney to give him another doubtful stare. He turned away from her. "Send the bills to me when you're able to make a choice." He started away.

It was gloomy outside. The sky was grey and the sun had drowned. It was just the way it was the day it all went wrong. The morning at that cozy old restaurant that he was certain would never feel the same again.

And it seemed like a perfect day to die. To wear out of existence.