I gasp. The thought that I will never see him again is so momentous that I cannot grasp it. I give a shaky laugh. “It doesn’t seem possible. I see you every day, I am so accustomed … You are always here, I have walked with you, or ridden with you, or been with you, every day for—what—more than two years?—ever since my wedding day. I am used to you …” I break off for fear of sounding too weak. “What I am really thinking is: Who will look after Merry? Who will keep her safe?”
