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Sophia’s bare feet felt chilled against the cold hardwood floors of her Seattle apartment, gray rain pounded steadily against the window. She stared briefly at the outside world; gray on gray on gray, she thought. She pressed her back against the neutral colored wall and let herself slide to the floor. Come on, Sophia, get it together. She tried coaching herself to no avail. For two days now she had tried to ‘be strong’ and remember that ‘things will get better’, but the promises of people: family, friends, coworkers, even strangers, had proven to be meaningless when she was alone with herself and her memories. She pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face into the fabric of her husband’s shirt. The familiar smell pulled her back to better days and she didn't bother trying not to cry as fresh tears brimmed in her eyes as memories flooded her.

Warm, golden rays of sun slanted in through the window shade and crept across the floor until it fell onto the ocean blue bed spread. Sophia was barely waking, blue eyes peeking from behind fluttering lashes. She stretched until she felt the edge of the bed and then drew back. The warmth of her husband next to her was more than inviting and she curled into his side. She watched the rise and fall of his chest as he slept; counting the breaths. Sophia felt him waking and she lifted her head to kiss his cheek. She smiled as the small hairs on his face tickled her lips. "Good morning, my love," she breathed into his ear. He grunted in response and pulled her closer to him; fighting off the oncoming day. "Let's stay here, just a while longer." he spoke softly. The couple lay in bed, tangled in one another as the busy morning passed by them outside. "I love you, Sophia." 

The words broke over her like a wave slamming into the coastline. A sharp intake of breath shook her body and she sobbed. Sophia lost track of time as she cried into the white button down. Three short taps on the door drew her back from her despair, briefly. Blue eyes scanned the dark door of the apartment. A small piece of hope slipped into her mind, and she ignored the impossibility of it being him on the other side. She stood and crossed the room; she placed her hand on the silver door knob and paused before opening it. She rested her forehead against the wooden door; regaining her composure. Two taps, and then a third sounded again. She opened her eyes and turned the knob. 

"Oh, Soph, you are an utter...mess," the shrill voice of her mother bit into her ears. The use of the nickname didn’t lessen the blow and Sophia sighed before falling into her mother’s arms. The mother’s wrinkled hand stroked her daughter’s hair, but there was not comfort for Sophia in the touch.