The Last Night of October

The cat was crying again. That hollow, mournful sound that used to wake Elena at 3 AM when Marco was still alive, before the cancer, before the hospice nurses and the hollowed-out shell of a man he'd become. She'd begun to think of those final months as the zombie period — both of them walking through the motions of living, hollowed out by grief and anticipation, hands touching without feeling, words spoken without hearing.

Now it was just her and the cat in this studio apartment that still smelled faintly of his cigarettes.

Elena sat on the balcony, sweat beading on her palm as she gripped her wine glass. October in Miami, and the air was thick enough to chew. Behind her, Sarah was rummaging through the kitchen cabinets — Sarah, who'd been Marco's best friend, who'd held Elena at the funeral, who'd somehow become the only person who understood the particular geometry of this loss.

"Found it," Sarah called out, stepping onto the balcony with two joints and matches. "Your brother's excellent product."

Elena laughed, surprised by how good it felt. "He'll be thrilled you approve."

They smoked in silence, watching the storm build over the bay. Purple clouds stacking like bruises against a darkening sky.

"I keep waiting for it to get easier," Elena said, the words slipping out before she could stop them. "Everyone says it will. But it's been eight months and I still —" She gestured vaguely at nothing, at everything.

"Nobody tells you the truth about grief," Sarah said, passing the joint back. "They say it gets better. What they mean is you get better at carrying it. Like heavy luggage. You don't notice the weight after a while, but it's still there."

Lightning cracked across the sky — a brilliant white fracture that momentarily illuminated everything, the balcony, their faces, the cat pressing against the sliding door, waiting to be let in. For that split second, everything was painfully clear.

"I miss him," Elena said, and the simple truth of it knocked the breath out of her. "But I also miss who I was when I was with him. Does that make sense?"

Sarah nodded slowly. "You'll figure out who you are now. Give it time."

The first drop of rain hit Elena's arm, shocking and cold. They scrambled inside just as the sky opened up, the cat weaving between their legs, purring loudly, as if the storm was exactly what he'd been waiting for.