After You

“The cheerful streets of my hometown feel foreign to me now. I look at them with a distant, analytical eye, noting how small everything appears, how tired, how twee. Even the castle looks smaller, perched on top of the hill. I realize this is how Will must have seen it when he first came home after his accident, and push the thought away. As we drive down our street, I find myself sinking slightly in my seat. I don’t want to make polite conversation with neighbors, to explain myself. I don’t want to be judged for what I did.”

Louisa’s response to her Stortfold hometown establishes her complex emotional interior, particularly in the wake of Will’s death. While these same streets once felt “cheerful,” they now feel “foreign,” “distant,” “tired,” and “twee.” Time, distance, and grief have thus transformed Louisa’s perspective on a once familiar and welcoming setting. She fears returning to this place in the wake of Will’s death because she doesn’t want to associate with the person she was while here. The passage illustrates Louisa’s habits of avoiding and compartmentalizing her internal experiences and of detaching from her true self.

“I felt lost without our daily routines. It took weeks for my hands not to feel useless without daily contact with his body: the soft shirt I would button; the warm, motionless hands I would wash gently; the silky hair I could still feel between my fingers. […] I felt as if I had simply floated off, untethered, to some unknown universe.”

Louisa uses descriptive language to convey her sorrow over losing Will. Her account shifts into a contemplative, nostalgic tone as she remembers Will, which illustrates her sustained melancholy over his absence. Diction including “soft,” “warm,” “gently,” and “silky” captures the intimacy of Louisa and Will’s former relationship, while diction like “lost,” “useless,” “floated,” “untethered,” and “unknown” captures how lost Louisa feels without Will.

“I could barely even say Will’s name. And listening to their tales of family relationships, of thirty-year marriages, shared houses, lives, children, I felt like a fraud. I had been a caregiver for someone for six months. I loved him and watched him end his life. How could these strangers possibly understand what Will and I had been to each other during that time?”

Louisa’s internal monologue during her first Moving On Circle session illustrates her reluctance to confront her grief. She feels like an imposter at the grief group because she doesn’t believe her sorrow is warranted. She indeed loved Will but hasn’t yet learned how to articulate the depth of their relationship. Participating in the grief group means that she’ll have to acknowledge The Complexity of Human Relationships After Loss to find support through her grief.

“I sat very still on my sofa, trying to digest what had just happened for the better part of an hour, Lily’s voice ringing in my ears. Had I heard her correctly? I went over and over what she had told me, trying to recall it all over the buzz in my ears. My father was Will Traynor.”

Louisa’s emotional response to Lily Miller’s appearance in her life manifests in her body. She sits “very still” and tries to “digest” what she just learned about Lily and Will; she also feels Lily’s voice “ringing” and “buzzing” in her ears. This physically-oriented language underscores that unexpected life events affect the individual physiologically. Indeed, after meeting Lily, Louisa begins to awaken to her life again—she is attuning herself to her body in new ways because of Lily’s presence. The passage also conveys the narrative disruption that Lily creates in Louisa’s reality and foreshadows how she’ll change Louisa.

“I took a deep gulp of my drink, trying to hide what I felt was written clearly on my face. Suddenly, for no reason I could work out, I wanted to cry. It was too much. That odd, unbalancing night. The fact that Will had loomed up again, ever present in every conversation. I could see his face suddenly, that sardonic eyebrow raised, as if to say What on earth are you up to now, Clark?”

Louisa’s response to Sam Fielding during their first outing together illustrates The Complexity of Human Relationships After Loss. Louisa “gulps” her drink and tries to keep from “crying.” She is trying to hide her thoughts and sorrow over remembering Will from Sam because she’s afraid that these two relationships are at odds. She can also hear Will’s voice in her head while she’s with Sam, which implies that she fears dishonoring Will by pursuing new connections.

“Sometimes she would be angry, at others, rude. But I could never refuse her. Chaotic as her behavior was, I got the feeling my flat was a safe haven.”

Louisa’s reflections on life with Lily reiterate Louisa’s innately loving and empathetic nature. Lily is “angry,” “rude,” and “chaotic,” but Louisa does not demonize her for these behaviors. Rather, she feels powerless to “refuse her” because she sees that she might be of help to Lily. Lily’s presence thus reminds Louisa that she can show others love and that caring for another person might help her to heal.

“Most of the time, I was reasonably content with my life. I had been to enough group sessions now to know that it was important to be grateful for simple pleasures. I was healthy. I had my family again. I was working. If I hadn’t made peace with Will’s death, I did at least feel like I might be crawling out from under a shadow. And yet.”

Louisa’s insistent narrative tone conveys her desperation to believe that she is okay. She starts most of the sentences in this passage with “I,” a stylistic technique that creates an urgent tone. Louisa is searching for evidence that she’s healing from her sorrow, but she ends the passage on a fragmented line: “and yet.” This line implies that Louisa hasn’t fully let go of Will because she hasn’t fully acknowledged the depth of her loss. The metaphor "crawling out from under a shadow" further emphasizes her grief’s weight, as she compares it to a looming, oppressive presence from which she cannot fully escape.

“But Lily is. You don’t even know this girl, Lou. You should be focusing on moving forward. You should be sending off your CV, talking to contacts, working out where your strengths are, not finding yet another excuse to put your own life on hold.”

Treena’s lines of dialogue challenge Louisa to reexamine her life and take care of herself. Treena’s words originate from a place of love. She is urging her sister to focus on her healing process instead of prioritizing others’ needs; her words thus compel Louisa to stop using others as an excuse for putting her “life on hold.” This is a lesson Louisa will learn as she continues through The Complicated Process of Grieving and Healing.

“Something had changed since I’d met Lily. It wasn’t just that I’d learned to accommodate the explosion of teenage-related mess in my near-empty flat. I had actually started to quite enjoy having Lily in my life, having someone to eat with, sit side by side with on the sofa commenting on whatever we happened to be watching on television, keeping a poker face when she offered me some concoction she’d made.”

Louisa’s relationship with Lily ushers her toward growth and renewal. Sharing space with Lily has reminded Louisa of the importance and The Complexity of Human Relationships After Loss. Her detailed descriptions of her and Lily’s pastimes show how true intimacy for Louisa can originate from sharing daily life with another person.

“Before I could think about it, I leaned across the little table, reached for the back of his head, and kissed him. He hesitated for just a moment then shifted forward, and kissed me back. At some point I think someone knocked over a wineglass but I couldn’t stop. I wanted to kiss him forever. I blocked out all thoughts about what this was, what it might mean, what further mess I might create for myself.”

Louisa and Sam’s first kiss illustrates Louisa’s yet unarticulated desire to live more fully. She impulsively leans “across the little table” to kiss Sam, disregarding the spilled glass and blocking out “out all thoughts” and questions about what she’s doing and why. Louisa is acting on her desire rather than overcalculating her behaviors for the first time since Will’s death. The scene thus depicts Louisa taking a risk and thus making the first step toward pursuing newness and intimacy in the wake of loss.

“‘I just felt I wanted to do something that…’ I shrugged. ‘…I just wanted to feel…alive.’ There was a murmur of agreement at that word. It was what we all wanted, ultimately, to be freed from our grief. To be released from this underworld of the dead, half our hearts lost underground, or trapped in little porcelain urns. It felt good to have something positive to say for once.”

Louisa’s decision to share at the Moving On Circle marks another turning point in The Complicated Process of Grieving and Healing. Louisa uses halting syntax when she opens up about her recent night with Sam, but her subsequent internal reflections show how transformative this moment is for her. She is sharing “something positive” with her new friends while claiming her feelings without shame. The passage also incorporates figurative language which vivifies Louisa’s emotional experience. She likens grief to a “porcelain urn,” an “underworld,” and the “underground”—metaphors that evoke notions of death and entrapment. Speaking about her experience in turn liberates her from this purgatory.

“You’re a loser. Worse than that, you’re a loser who thinks you can tell other people what to do. And who gives you the right? You sat there at my dad’s bedside and you watched him die and you did nothing about it. Nothing! So I hardly think you’re any great judge of how to behave.”

Lily’s cutting words challenge Louisa to examine the truth of her circumstances. While Lily and Louisa have grown close, Lily is identifying all that Louisa still needs to do to heal and grow. She is pointing out Louisa’s negative habits, which compels Louisa to own her often dysfunctional responses to her loss.

“Well, it’s hardly a home, is it? It’s got no furniture, and nothing personal. You haven’t even got pictures on your walls. It’s like…a garage. A garage without a car. I’ve actually seen homier petrol stations.”

The way that Lily describes Louisa’s home underscores the setting’s symbolic significance. The space lacks “furniture,” “personal” decor, and “pictures,” which depict notions of vacancy. Lily also compares the apartment to a “garage without a car,” a metaphor that conveys idleness and purposelessness. At this juncture in the novel, Louisa isn’t investing in her space because she still feels incapable of investing in her life since losing Will.

“It’s your board and lodging. It’s New York. Listen. This is a man who gets stuff done. Work hard and he’ll look after you. He’s smart, and he’s fair. Get out here, show him what you’re worth, and you could end up with opportunities you wouldn’t believe. Seriously. Don’t think of this as a nanny job. Think of it as a gateway.”

Louisa’s potential new job in New York City offers her an opportunity for renewal and new life. The way that her friend Nathan pitches the job to her underscores the job’s symbolic significance. In the narrative present, Louisa is trapped in a banal, static lifestyle; by way of contrast, moving to New York would offer the action, possibility, and excitement she needs to grow and change.

“It felt okay. Nothing was moving. I had done it. And then I opened my eyes and my breath stopped in my chest. The rooftop was a riot of blooms. The dead pots I had neglected for months were filled with scarlet and purple flowers, spilling over the edges like little founts of color. Two new planters mushroomed with clouds of tiny blue petals and a Japanese maple sat in an ornamental pot beside one of the benches. Its leaves shivering delicately in the breeze.”

The night that Louisa finally climbs back up to the roof after the accident marks a turning point in her healing journey. She has avoided the roof since falling because she’s feared taking risks and hurting herself again. When she goes back up in this scene, she confronts her fears and decides to open herself to life again. The moment also catalyzes her garden discovery: an image that symbolizes newness and resurrection. The garden once was dead, but Lily replanted it into a vibrant, living wonderland, evident in its “new planters” that have “tiny blue petals” and “leaves shivering.”

“I want to tell him then. I want to tell him that I don’t know what I feel. I want him but I’m frightened to want him. I don’t want my happiness to be entirely dependent on somebody else’s, to be a hostage to fortunes I cannot control.”

Louisa’s internal monologue during her intimate evening with Sam conveys her continued fear of opening her heart after losing Will. She genuinely cares for Sam, but her sustained sorrow over Will’s death remains a barrier to pursuing intimacy and happiness. She doesn’t vocalize these thoughts because she hasn’t yet learned to embrace love after loss.

“You’re in charge of your own life, Lou. And yet you act like you’re permanently buffeted by events outside your control. What is this—guilt? Is it that you feel you owe Will something? Is it some kind of penance? Giving up your life because you couldn’t save his?”

Treena uses blunt language and a direct tone to confront Louisa about her situation. Treena is frustrated with Louisa for giving up the New York opportunity because she doesn’t want loss and fear to control Louisa. The questions she asks Louisa expose the truth of Louisa’s internal unrest and foreshadow the work she’ll have to do as she continues processing her grief.

“Will’s daughter needed me. It was as simple as that. And whatever my sister said, I owed him. Here was a way to feel I hadn’t been completely useless. I could still do something for him. And that envelope proved I was someone who could get a decent job offer. That was progress. I had friends, a sort of boyfriend, even. This, too, was progress.”

Louisa’s loyalty to Lily underscores The Complexity of Human Relationships After Loss. In this passage, Louisa is trying to convince herself that she has done enough to heal and that she doesn’t need to take more risks; she embraces this line of thought because she still thinks that she owes Will something and that loving Lily proves her sustained love for him.

“She linked her arm through mine and let her head rest on my shoulder. We watched the sun’s gentle fall, and the lengthening shadows creeping toward us, and I thought about the New York skyline and the fact that nobody was truly free. Perhaps all freedom—physical, personal—really only came at the cost of somebody or something else.”

Louisa’s use of descriptive language merges with her self-reflection to convey her emotional complexity. The image of her and Lily sitting closely with their bodies physically entwined evokes notions of connection and dependency. Louisa likes being needed and thus tells herself that her relationship with Lily is enough reason not to leave London. At the same time, the reference to “lengthening shadows creeping toward them” foreshadows The Impact of Unexpected Life Changes they’ll soon experience.

“I loved a man who had opened up a world to me but hadn’t loved me enough to stay in it. And now I was too afraid to love a man who might love me, in case…In case what? I turned it over in my head in the silent hours after Lily had retreated to the glowing digital distractions of her room. Sam didn’t call. I couldn’t blame him.”

Louisa’s internal monologue captures her concerted work to reconcile her former relationship with Will with her current relationship with Sam. This moment marks a shift in Louisa’s healing process because she is actively acknowledging her emotions and beginning to accept The Complexity of Human Relationships After Loss. She is also asking herself questions and owning her fear, which shows that she genuinely wants to change.

“Jesus, Lou! […] You think I didn’t watch my sister being eaten up by cancer and know that my heart was going to break, not just for her, but for her son, every day of my life? You think I don’t know how that feels? There’s only one response, and I can tell you this because I see it every day. You live. And you throw yourself into everything and try not to think about the bruises.”

Sam uses an insistent, direct tone in this scene of dialogue with Louisa because he wants her to move beyond her grief. Sam genuinely understands Louisa’s emotional experience, but he’s also eager for her to engage with life again. His words challenge Louisa to let go of her sorrow to embrace love, intimacy, and the unknown despite the sorrow she’s experienced, described here as “the bruises.”

“This is what catastrophe does: it strips away the fluff and the white noise, the should I really and the but what if…? I wanted Sam. I knew it with a stinging clarity. I wanted to feel his arms around me and hear him talking […] Why had I not been able to tell him that? Why had I wasted so much time worrying about what was not important?”

Sam’s near-death experience grants Louisa a revelation. When she realizes that she could lose Sam, she immediately understands that she loves and wants to be with him. The novel thus underscores that love is precious and that Louisa should embrace it when it comes to her. This passage marks another turning point in Louisa’s growth and healing journeys and foreshadows her and Sam’s happy ending.

“I had crossed a bridge. Their struggle was no longer my struggle. It wasn’t that I would ever stop grieving for Will, or loving him, or missing him, but that my life seemed to have somehow landed back in the present.”

When Louisa attends her last session with the Moving on Circle she is moving out of grief and into new life. The image of the bridge is a metaphor for journeying from one phase of life into another. Louisa is indeed making peace with her past (specifically as it regards Will) and looking out into the future.