Page 49 of How to Survive Your Own Death

Warehouse club and grocery. Need paper towels, etc, Molly texted.

Wow, “the club.” You take me to the best places.

Once a month, give or take, Molly and Anh piled in the car and did a big shopping trip. Geri appreciated being dragged along. While she couldn’t use the warehouse club-sized bucket of mayo, she wouldn’t say no to a massive package of paper towels, laundry detergent, cat litter, and toilet paper. Apparently being an adult in your thirties brought an appreciation for a well-stocked hall closet and pantry.

She was never using the restaurant-sized roll of aluminum foil, though. That thing would be inherited by the apartment’s next tenant.

I can’t believe you actually put in quotes. Dork. Get your shoes on. We’ll be there in thirty, Molly wrote.

Geri checked her cabinets and freezer to make a quick list. She could use another bag of chicken pot stickers. The dumplings were great to toss into a bowl of ramen noodles. Also, ramen. She used her last package yesterday. Tomorrow was her first day back at work since the accident—such a tidy and hygienic way to say since she died—and she’d need coffee. Going through the economy size as a single person was not a problem. She’d need almond milk too.

“Will you eat dog food?” she asked Bones, who managed to look offended and yawned before claiming her spot in front of the balcony door. “Okay, only asking.”

Just as well. She didn’t know how she’d explain buying a large bag of dog food for a dog no one could see.

Once satisfied with the list, she went to change out of her grubby clothes into less grubby clothes.

Death was waiting for her, hood drawn down and cloak moving in an ethereal breeze.

“What? No flowers?” she asked, planting her hands on her hips.

His posture changed, as if intrigued. “Would flowers soften your disposition?”

“Not really.” Flowers were a lazy gesture. She’d still be resurrected and forced to work as a reaper, only now she’d have to deal with a cat determined to munch on the flowers in the vase and make a mess.

“I have come to apologize,” he said.

“Oh? Well, don’t let me stop you.” She grabbed a shirt from her dresser and a pair of leggings from the closet. Moving her finger in a tight circle, she wordlessly ordered Bazel to turn around.

He complied, his back to her. “The actions I took were egregious. I did not consider your wishes. I did not even consider you as a person. You were a tool. I was desperate, but that is not an excuse for my selfishness.”

“And?”

“And?” His tone implied surprise, as if unaware of all the misdeeds for which he must atone. “And I apologize for holding my actions over your head, implying that you should be grateful for what I did to you against your will, without your consent.”

“And?”

“There’s more?” He turned around just as she finished dressing.

“An apology has three parts,” she said. “Acknowledgment of what you did wrong, recognizing how it caused pain, and your intentions to correct the behavior.”

Once, years ago, she had said the same thing to her soon-to-be ex-husband. He simply couldn’t make it past the first step. He twisted his infidelity back on her. She worked too much. She was never home. She was tired. He was lonely. He had no choice.

Geri refused to play that game. Keeping his dick in his pants was always a choice within his power. And right now, she had to know that Bazel wouldn’t treat her like something he could order around.

The cloak moved gently in the unseen wind. “I cannot undo what occurred.”

“I’m not asking you to,” she replied, fully aware that while she was giving him a hard time, yes, she was glad to see him. She had missed his moody, melodramatic ass.

His hands flexed, as if longing to grip a tool that was not there. “I do not want to give you an empty pledge. What would satisfy you?”

Asking what she wanted. An excellent sign.

“The next time we have a disagreement, don’t throw that without me you’d be dead shit in my face. Treat me like a coworker and not your minion.”

There was an uncomfortably long pause.

He couldn’t do that? A coldness swept over her. Fine. She couldn’t cut him out of her life, not immediately, but she could stop this silly crush. Probably. Anger could get her most of the way there, and spite would seal the deal.