Tears welled up in her eyes.
She said with a deep sigh, "Why must you die with me? Now we are both freezing to death. You could have lived well, missing me a few more times. Even if I became a ghost, I wouldn't scare you."
In her ears echoed the words he had once spoken when, jokingly, she asked him to burn incense at her grave, but he had said:
"I'm used to sleeping with you in my arms, used to your fragrance, used to being with you every day. If you really died, I'd die with you. I'd want us to be buried in the same grave, so you wouldn't be lonely in the coffin. We'd have to make the coffin a bit larger, to fit two people, more spacious and comfortable to lie in..."
Since she had accepted him, she had never doubted his sincerity.
Thinking now of how he had spoken of sharing the same grave with her, of living and dying together, and him truly accompanying her, a deep, sour pain welled up in her heart.
