Free Shackled by Morgan Ashbury

politically correct but insincere condolences at this point.
    “It’s been an adjustment. Tim’s death was sudden. I loved him, in a way. You can’t be married to someone, live with them for more than a quarter of a century, and not mourn at least a little when they die.” Beth stirred her eggs with her fork and then lifted a small bite to her mouth.
    Jonathan could see her focus had turned inward. He scooped another forkful of breakfast but let her have the space she needed to organize her thoughts.
    “That sounded callous, and I’m sorry for it. The truth is I grieved more for my children than for myself. Erica and Daniel both loved their father, and I grieved that they lost him.”
    Jonathan ate slowly but kept his gaze on her face. Her words were coming progressively more easily. He’d bet this was the first time Beth had been able to talk about her true feelings to anyone since her husband’s death.
    “They stayed with me for a few weeks after the funeral, and I know that while in their minds they were staying to make certain I was okay, they needed to be at the home where we’d been a family together. To grieve, and to remember, and to begin letting go.”
    He didn’t know Beth’s children all that well. They’d been younger than him and had different friends and interests. He did recall they tended to take after their mother in their attitudes toward responsibility, and life in general, which was a very good thing.
    “What about Beth?” Jonathan asked.
    “What do you mean?”
    “Did you let go?”
    “It was different for me. My relationship with Tim had changed subtly over the last few years. It became more like we were roommates sharing a house than husband and wife. In a lot of ways, I’d let go, emotionally, years before. That is, I still did all the things I’d ever done. But I’d…withdrawn, I guess you could say, emotionally.”
    “I hope you don’t blame yourself for that, sweetheart. It takes two people to build and maintain a relationship. As someone who only saw your marriage from the outside, it seemed to me that Tim did nothing to shore up the foundations of your lives.”
    “No, I don’t feel guilty.” She stopped and looked at him. “Except for one thing, and it’s silly. I should be feeling righteous about it.”
    “Tell me.”
    “The paramedics came quickly, but while we waited for them, Tim was scared and needed to hold my hand. He asked me if I loved him. And I said yes, of course I did. He seemed to relax then, and I rode with him to the hospital. They took him away, to work on him. But he died. I lied to him. And I guess it isn’t the lie I feel guilty about, so much as the fact that he died and we never honestly resolved one damn thing in our relationship.”
    “Beth. You have to know that even if you’d tried to tell him how you felt, he wouldn’t get it. You did the right thing. You did the right thing. You gave him the only form of comfort you could, even if it left you hanging.”
    Bethany shook her head, and Jonathan wondered if she’d meant to share all of that. At the same time, he was very glad that she had.
    “Anyway, once everything was done, and the kids returned to their homes and careers, I felt…vacant, I guess you could say. I think a part of me expected to feel this enormous influx of fresh air, of freedom and relief. Instead, I felt as if I’d been marooned on a desert island surrounded by a calm-as-glass sea. That sense of isolation just got worse a few weeks later when the architectural firm I’d worked at for the last fifteen years folded. There I was at the ripe old age of forty-eight, with no husband, and no job. I registered with a temp agency. I’ve been sent on a few assignments, the longest for two weeks. So that was something, at least.”
    “You don’t want to find a permanent position?”
    “No. There’s just so much hassle involved in being a permanent employee. I’m careful, I can manage on temp work and my