"Rachel," Bruce said, standing as she approached. "God, it's good to see you." She looked exactly as he remembered her, and he couldn't quite quell the nervous queasiness in his stomach. It had been hard, being at her funeral, the 'family friend' as had been reported in the paper. Even Alfred had taken it hard, as he got unusually quiet whenever the subject happened to be brought up.
"You adjusting alright?" he asked as they sat, maintaining the usual small talk while getting used to the idea that somehow, she really was sitting there before him and not just some memory or ghost of longing for how things could have been.