She hadn't really gone anywhere since he left.
Once she dragged herself to an Aquarium, with the hope it would be peaceful.
Mistake.
She walked in, gazing at each of the tanks with her typical, inspecting look. She found one she particularly liked, with some larger, tropical fish. Multicolored with large, flowing fins.
She didn't care to read any of the information on the exhibit signs.
The fish in it seemed equally interested in her, and swam forward in the tank, looking as courageous as a fish's expression could manage.
Courage, how like him. Until the last day, he was so gallant.
Then, cautiously, she stretched one hand forward, and tapped the glass.
The school retreated, and she sighed.
Then, hesitantly, they came back, one at a time.
Hesitance. She knew how that went.
That's how he was, before they met. And she couldn't blame him.
He trusted few people and loved even fewer.
But how could you be certain? After your love was killed by one you trusted?
His first-wife was killed because of his job.
Then what?
She fell in love with him, and he died.
Irony. She hated it.
She hit at the glass again, harder this time, and then turned to leave.