Greed.
Avaritia.
Even now, she doesn't cry. You'd say she has a good reason, but she just can't. It relieves her, giving her the idea that not everything has changed like she thought before. She stays away from the coffin, scared that his eyes will suddenly go open and his hands will strangle her, but mostly afraid that people will notice how much she cared for him.
They'll notice she even cares more about him, than his wife did. "Mitchie," She whispers to her friend next to her, but the girl ignores her throughout the service. "Please?"
"It's okay, Caity. Don't worry." Nate's voice laced with fake puppy love tries to soothe her, but she just glares at the wall, ignoring him the way her best friend ignores her.
In the end, she drowns out the voice of the guy who speeches, and all she does is stare at the coffin in the middle of the room. A surge of pain rushes through her, and before she even realizes it, a big, wet, salty tear drips upon her hand, and she's crying.
She rushes out of the room, bursting out into a fit of uncontrollable, hysterical sobs.
She doesn't stop, until the rest of the people leave. "How dare you even show up at his funeral!" Her friend yells at her, when she sees her. "How dare you!"
"Mitchie," She responds while standing up and walking over to her. "I've lost him, too."
"You fucked him behind my back, you slut! You're not a friend! You don't deserve to come here!" Mitchie screams, showing the way she really is, a few stray tears escaping out of her eyes. Her voice cracks as she replies, not even caring how much she's making a fool out of herself. "I loved him, the way you loved him, Mitch. I just showed it to him."
Before her friend can reply, she smiles and walks away.
"I never lied to him, the way you did, Mitch. Never."