The hot sun radiated off of Birdie's back, but the wind was cold. She chose to wear a black lace veil to her husband's funeral. She did not want anyone to see her absence of tears. Her lips curled into a smile as his coffin was lowered into the ground. Paul had been terrorizing her life for the past six years, and now he was finally gone.

Birdie jumped when she felt an arm go around her shoulders. She glanced up to see that it was Ian. Paul's best friend was almost as bad as Paul. He squeezed her shoulder as his eyes were cast down.

"It will all be okay," Ian said.

Birdie shook her shoulders until Ian removed his arm. She had a handkerchief crumpled in her hands. She faked a few sobs before dabbing her eyes with the handkerchief. The priest standing at the head of the grave closed his bible. A few people dropped flowers around his grave. People started to disperse from the cemetery. A crowd was surrounding Paul's hysterical mother.

"The boys and I will drive you home, Birdie," Ian said.

"I think I would rather walk home," Birdie said. "It will help clear my mind."

"Nonsense," he said. "You are a grieving widow. You should not be alone. Do you want one of us to stay the night?"

"No," she said. "A ride home is more than enough."

Ian put his hand on the small of her back. They walked over to his car on the edge of the graveyard. She could see through the veil that the car was full of Paul's friends. Ian opened the backdoor.

"Move over, boys," Ian said. "We've got a lady."

Earl shifted himself over across the seat. Birdie took a seat on the edge. She lifted the veil up, and flipped it away from her face. Ian got into the driver's seat. Birdie crossed her arms over her chest and kept herself pressed against the door.

"Paul was always a great man," Ian said as he pulled onto the road. "I say we all have a drink in his honour."

"Sounds great," Earl said.

Paul spent all of his time in a bar. Birdie was not surprised that they would want to honour his memory inside a bar.

Birdie and Paul were fighting the night he died. He was yelling drunken slurs at her when he found out that she was accepted to be a nursing sister. He stormed out of the apartment to escape the fight, and he stumbled down the steps. Birdie heard a lot of things during her time as a nurse, but she will never forget the sound of his neck snapping.

Ian pulled up to the side of the apartment building. Birdie was the first to get out of the car. She dug into the pocket of her dress for the keys. She hoped to get inside before any of the men wanted to walk her upstairs to her apartment. She looked over her shoulder to see the three men walking toward the building. They followed behind her as she climbed the stairs. Birdie put the key in the lock before turning around.

"Thank you very much," Birdie said with a fake smile. "I will be okay from here."

"Don't be silly, Birdie," Ian said. "Paul has some leftover alcohol. He would want us to enjoy it."

Before Birdie could object, Ian reached forward and turned the key in the lock. He opened the door and pushed past her. Paul's other friends followed behind Ian. Birdie rolled her eyes as she closed the apartment door. His friends were occupying the couch and the rocking chair. She watched as Ian retrieved the Scotch out of Paul's cabinet. He brought a collection of glasses over with him to the coffee table. The men poured themselves a drink. Birdie made herself a tea in the kitchen as she watched them.

"To Paul," Ian said as he raised his glass.

"To Paul," the rest said and clinked their glasses together.

"To Paul," Birdie muttered to herself as she filled the kettle full of water.

Ian settled into the couch and took a sip of his Scotch. He looked over his shoulder at Birdie and flashed her a smile.

"It is a shame Paul had to go so soon," Ian said. "He left behind a good job, good friends, and a great family."

Birdie bit down on the inside of her cheeks as Ian's smile turned into a smirk. She wanted to scream at them and tell them to get out of her apartment. She was smart enough to know that she could not take on three men. Ian shifted his weight on the couch so that he was no longer staring at Birdie. The kettle whistled, and she removed it from the stove.

"What are you going to do now, Birdie?" Ian asked.

"I am a nursing sister," she said. "I am leaving on Wednesday."

"You are actually going?" Earl asked.

"Of course I am," she said. "I have to."

"It is alright to stay here," Ian said. "I am sure that they will forgive you for not going because of Paul's death."

Birdie originally applied to the Medical Corps to get away from Paul. Even when he was not abusing her, she despised being around Paul. She only married him because he promised her a better life. It was a promise that was never fulfilled. She thought about withdrawing her application after Paul's death. Ian came to her apartment the morning after, and kept putting his hand on her thighs. She realized that she not just running from Paul, but everything that he brought into her life.

"It will be best to leave so I can take my mind off of it," Birdie said.

"Best of luck," James, one of Paul's friends, said as he poured himself another drink. He loosened the tie around his neck and leaned back in the rocking chair.

"You're going to need it," Ian said. "There's scarier things over there than Germans."

"What are you talking about?" Earl asked.

"Remember my cousin Roy?" Ian asked.

"Didn't he enlist a few months ago?" Earl asked.

Ian nodded his head before emptying his glass. He leaned forward and poured himself another drink.

"I got a letter from him a few weeks ago," Ian said. "He was posted in Belgium. He said that something tore his whole crew from limb to limb."

"What did?" James asked.

"I am not sure," Ian said. "He referred to it as a creature."

"A creature?" Earl asked.

"Yes, and he made it sound like a big ugly one too." Ian shifted on the couch so that he was looking at Birdie. She was stirring her tea, waiting for it to cool down. "You better be careful out there. You do not want to get ripped apart by one of those creatures."

"I will be safer overseas," Birdie muttered to herself.

"What was that?" Ian asked.

"Thank you for your concern," she said with a fake smile plastered across her face.

Ian chuckled as he turned back around. Birdie let the smile fall from her face. She took a sip of her tea and watched as the men soon finished Paul's bottle of Scotch. Their words soon melted into incoherent slurs. By the time she finished her tea, the men were laughing and clinking their empty glasses together. Birdie stepped into the living room and picked the glasses up off of the coffee table. She hoped that they would take the hint that she wanted them to leave.

"Come join us, Birdie," Ian said.

"No, thank you," she said. "I have a splitting headache. I think I am going to lie down."

"Do you need one of us to take care of you?" Ian's usual smirk returned.

"No, I just need you to leave."

Earl and James howled with laughter. The smirk dropped off of Ian's face. He got up off of the couch, and Birdie took a step back. The glasses in her hands clinked together. His dark eyes were trying to hide his rage. It was the same look that Paul had.

"Birdie, you are not being very nice to your guests," Ian said.

"My husband just died," Birdie said raising her chin. "You are all drinking his alcohol and harassing his widow. I suggest you leave."

Ian narrowed his eyes. Birdie straightened her shoulders and maintained eye contact. Ian let out a deep breath before picking his jacket up off the back of the couch. He put his arms through the sleeves, and Birdie could see James and Earl stand. Ian leaned in toward her.

"When you are being torn apart by those monsters, you will wish that you stayed here with us," he said. She could smell the Scotch on his breath. "Remember that."

Birdie bit down on her cheeks again to stop herself from yelling. He was drunk and speaking nonsense. He walked past her. She glanced behind her to see them leaving her apartment.

She let out a deep breath and placed the glasses in the sink. She pulled the bobby pins out of her hair as she walked into the bedroom. She laid the veil across the foot of the bed. She sat down at her vanity. She grit her teeth as she pulled the rest of the clips out of her hair. Her blonde curls tumbled down past her shoulders.

Birdie caught a glimpse of her nursing uniform in the vanity mirror. Her uniform was hanging up against her closet door.

Being accepted into nursing school got Birdie out of her Aunt's abusive household. Being accepted as a nursing sister got her away from her abusive husband. Going to war was going to get her away from all of his friends.