Part 2 of Grizelda and Monty. It's rather depressing...

"Hello" said a quaint voice from high above. Grizelda looked up from reading the newspaper in her favourite rocking chair. She had always loved rocking chairs: how their gentle movement could calm any soul, and how the numbing squeak as it rubbed against the floor drowned out the whispers of past troubles. But no rocking chair could sooth her troubles at this present time, as she was highly concerned: more concerned than she had ever been in her entire life. But these all washed away like a paper doll in a mighty flood when she locked eyes with the man standing next to her.
"Monty" she breathed, dropping the newspaper to her lap in astonishment and forcing the rocking chair to come to an abrupt stop mid-rock. She leaped up and wrapped her arms round his slim yet muscular body, gazed into his eyes for a second that seemed to last an eternity, then dropped her head to his chest, sighing "I thought I'd never see you again" He chuckled and, stroking her long, black hair, said "I thought the same thing"
"But...but...what happened? They told me...they told me you were dead, engine troubles..." her voice trailed away as she remembered that terrible moment when she had received the dreaded phone call, as she remembered how she felt: like her heart had been torn out of her chest and hurled into the shadows, never to be seen again, as she remembered how her beloved aunt had simply shrugged her shoulders and said 'These things happen' upon hearing the news from her tearful and distressed niece.
"Enough of that. All you need to know is that I'm back and I'm never leaving you again" Monty said, his voice so assertive that she lifted her head and said
"Really?"
"Well, obviously I have to go back to the airport tomorrow and-"
"NO!" Grizelda screamed. "You are never going back on a plane after what you put me through!"
"But Grizelda, flying is my life, my passion. I can't give it up just because of a slight hiccup in technical - " Grizelda stepped away from him, her eyes now burning with an anger that had so quickly bubbled its way through her body; killing her relief, scorching her happiness.
"You care more about being a pilot than me? Than your only son?" the words were spat out, firing like darts right into Monty's heart.
"Of course not, but-" he argued, completely blown away and shocked at the accusation.
"But nothing! You either give up flying or we're finished, Monty Bone," then she added darkly "You can be sure of that!"

A month later, the plane that Monty Bone had been piloting crashed due to mysterious circumstances. Only this time when she heard the news, Grizelda Bone was not as surprised or sad as she was the last time. Last time she was devastated, but a slight glimmer of hope brightened the darkness that enclosed her. And that hope had pulled her through her depression, and had kept her going until it was no longer needed: until that wonderful yet heartbreaking day when her husband had come home.
But this time, there was no hope. There was no light. Because she knew it was the end. Lucretia, her sister, had come round to tell her the news. She had the largest smile her face had worn in a long time, and her closing words to an unspeaking Grizelda were: "No one treats a Yewbeam like that, sister. No one." She grinned wickedly, then slowly closed the door with an eerie creak. There had been no lights on inside the house, as the warmth of the summer sunshine had swept through the large windows and brightened the rooms with its radiant light. But all of a sudden, the house went very dark. And silent. And still. And Grizelda hated it. She couldn't allow herself to think, she mustn't.
She stormed over to her rocking chair, flung herself down and rocked furiously. But even the rocking which had been so therapeutic before didn't help numb the turmoil in her head. Thoughts swirled round in a great hurricane of emotion whilst the rocking chair continued its mournful sound: I never expected them to do it so soon! Creak, creak. I should never have let it happen! Creak, creak. But he deserved it, that's what auntie says...Creak, creak. He didn't mean anything to me: he wasn't even endowed! Creak, creak. But I loved him...Creak, creak. Did I? Creak, creak. STOP BEING SO WEAK! Creak, creak. I don't think I'll ever stop missing him…missing him…missing him…