You had gotten married to Wilbur during PogTopia and you had been extremely close and happy with each other.

After his death it hit you the heaviest but you still took care of Fundy, intending to keep your promise to take care of him and also keep Tommy safe which you tried your best to do.

Over the course of years you’ve slowly gotten more depressed, Phil tries his best to cheer you up but it’s not working very well.

You refuse to take off your wedding ring, you listen to you and Wilbur’s old music and you’ve kept all his old clothes and his things in your shared house, collecting dust and taunting you.

It was another slow, painful morning and you’d surprisingly been able to pull yourself out of bed.

Just about to drink your tea and take way to many pills this morning a knock sounded at your door, despite your better judgment you opened up the door and gasped.

Wilbur, there he was, curly brown hair with one white streak in it, eyes red and a a bouquet of your favorite flowers and ones similar to the ones from your wedding in his hands.

“Hello Darling,” Wilbur muttered, sounded as exhausted as you felt.