Hearing that, hearing this painful, broken nod to acceptance, made Rory feel yet another ragged stab of guilt. She didn't know how to help her friend. Rory was angry when she was overwhelmed with emotion. She had been angry for weeks after the kidnapping, and there was a path of destruction that she had carved almost unapologetically until she was shaken from that behavior. She understood the anger. She could see how Rae could be angry. But her friend wasn't reacting that way, and that was confusing.
Rae was just so understandably broken...
She let out a low sigh, squeezing at Rae's hand again. "You're allowed to be angry, too. Nobody expects you to just...be glad. After everything...the fact that nothing can be said or done to fix this right now...you can be angry."
But even as she spoke, Rory was certain it wouldn't matter. Rae had just lost the father of her child, the love of her life, and she wasn't leaning towards anger. It was selfish of Rory to want her to. If Rae yelled and screamed and blamed her, that would make Rory feel better. She hated herself a bit for even entertaining the thought. This wasn't about her. Not at all.
So Rory held tighter to Rae, and nodded her head as she listened. Her chest tightened, but she kept quiet all the same. "Rae...there is nothing silly about that. You'll always have a piece of him, and even if it's just a name, it tells people where your heart is. It isn't silly." Hadn't she given her child his dead father's name? If Rory did it to commemorate a man she hardly knew, why couldn't Rae for the father her son had been robbed of? "Elliot is a wonderful name, hon."