It felt strange to Henry—as he knew it did to everyone in the household—that their schedules had changed so dramatically, or rather that they spent their days trying to get back the normalcy they had once had. Life had come to revolve around Kat, and the entire family hadn’t been together for a meal or tea in months. Now they were sharing every meal and afternoon tea, but the normalcy had yet to return. With rare exception, they were all unusually quiet. At times it felt right and necessary to talk about Kat and about how they missed her, and to share their thoughts about believing she was in a better place. They all enjoyed talking about Harry and every adorable thing he was doing, as he seemed to change every day. But often there was nothing but thoughtful silence, as if no one had anything to say that wouldn’t initiate some kind of pain or awkwardness. If someone brought up any speculations about the future or moving forward from Kat’s death, it always led to implications—unspoken or otherwise—about whether or not Henry and Amala would heed Kat’s final wish and work toward marriage. Neither of them was ready to even think about that yet, let alone discuss it over the dinner table. Henry couldn’t even imagine opening his heart again to any woman, and in the rare moment when he could consider that one day he might be ready to move beyond the love he’d shared with Kat, his mind would always immediately go to the fact that Amala had broken his heart. And as much as she loved her sister, he wasn’t sure that Kat’s desire would be enough for Amala to overcome her initial belief that their getting married was a bad idea. He simply wasn’t willing to even consider the idea only to live through that drama all over again. For now, all he could do was live one day at a time, keep putting one foot in front of the other, and try to acclimate himself to living without his wife, grateful at least to be a part of her family. In spite of the awkwardness hovering over the situation between him and Amala, he still felt that he belonged and he was loved and accepted, and that alone was dearly precious to him and not something he took for granted.