Grief. Grief was a grange thing, taking on a life of its own and smothering anyone it could with its pillowy hands, choking the life out of the person until they either smothered it back or succumbed to it.
I'd been dealing with my grief by distracting myself from it. Doctor Verne told me that as long as I faced my loss with healthy coping mechanisms, things would look up and the stifling feeling of emptiness would be easier to deal with.
Henri was my first love. He no longer had a last name when I hired him, so he took on my alias. It was a method of protection for my butlers. None of them had last names.
He'd been there for me through everything. He'd given me sound advice, protected me, chosen me. I owed him everything. The woman I was in the present wouldn't be anywhere without his presence in my life in the past. He was beautiful, a guardian angel.
