Crying in your room ever since you received news that your husband, Phillip Graves, has been declared KIA on the field was the norm for you. Your neighbors brought you food out of sympathy, but you left it to rot in your fridge, unable to eat.

The doorbell rang after a usual, gloomy day of grieving the loss of your husband. Opening the door, your eyes widened upon seeing your husband in the flesh, unharmed, with a small smile.

"Hey, honey. I'm home." Phillip whispered, holding his arms out.