Destined | Christopher Pike

Epilogue

A/N: Hello! So, this is going to be the last chapter of this book. I just wanted to hop in here and thank everyone who has read my story. It truly means a lot to me. I had a lot of fun writing it! Please enjoy!

Emma Pike stared at herself in the mirror of her bathroom with a lifeless look in her eyes. Today would be the day she buried her husband for good. She would never see him again, at least not in this lifetime. She found it harder today than all the previous days she had endured since Chris died. She didn't know if it was because of the finalization of things or if after today she would truly be alone. Everyone would return home or work and she would be left at home with every reminder of Chris. She swallowed thickly and smoothed out the black dress she had worn before walking downstairs.

She was entirely alone inside the house. Mostly everyone had gathered down towards the weeping willow tree that Chris would be buried under. It's where both of his parents had been laid to rest and it was where he wished to be. Emma thought it was perfect. It had a view of the mountains, the lake and the horse stables. She could see everyone standing, waiting for her from outside the back door of the house. She had a crumpled up piece of paper in her hands that had been tear stained. Her eulogy. She had never written one before and she found it to be one of the most difficult things to write.

In her other hand was a bouquet of wildflowers that she had picked that morning before everyone arrived. The same flowers Chris used to pick for her and surprise her with them. She loved it every single time. She thought Chris would appreciate it more than an extravagant bouquet of flowers. She took a few deep breaths before walking outside where her parents stood. They would follow behind the casket with her along with a few of Chris' extended family members. Chris' two uncles, a few of his cousins and Spock had been chosen to carry his casket by Chris himself when he wrote his will years ago.

Spock waited for a nod from Emma to begin the procession down to the tree. When she did she watched as they lifted his dark wood casket and began to walk. The walk felt like it lasted an eternity. However, with every step Emma took, the closer she got to saying good bye. She felt a hand on her back as she walked with head hung low. She glanced to her right to see her father giving her an encouraging yet sad smile. She could do this. Could she though? Could she find the strength to get up every morning? Could she find the strength to eventually stop crying herself to sleep? Could she find the strength to pack away all his things one day and stop living in a memorial of him?

Would she stop seeing Chris in everything? The knife she used to cut up her dinner last night was his favorite one. The t shirt she slept in the entire week was the last shirt he wore before he died. It still smelled like him. His toothbrush was still in the same spot near the sink. His ridiculous amount of hair products were still on the counter. She swore she could hear his footsteps in the house or the sound of him starting a fire every morning when it was cold. She could still hear the way he said 'I love you.'

Tears fell down Emma's cheeks in quiet, steady streams. She didn't care that people were watching her. Her husband was dead. She sat quiet on the chair in the front row while a few people said a few, personal words about Chris. She hardly listened though. She just kept her eyes on his casket. She clutched the flowers in her hand so tightly that she was scared they might break under the pressure. She could feel the raw emotions cutting into her more and more with every passing second. She just wanted this all to be over.

"And now, Chris' wife, Emma would like to say a few words." One of his Uncle's snapped Emma out of her thoughts.

She took a moment to gather her thoughts before standing up. She glanced at the crowd and then down to Chris' casket and finally back at her paper. She wondered if anyone could see her hands shaking as she tried to get her eyes to fixate on the words she had written. She looked back at the crowd.