Looking out the door, Will saw the rain fall upon the funeral mourners. He was mourning the deteriorating relationship you had with Will. The bedroom setting was always dull, empty. Lonely was the bedroom that you made, the bed that used to be the area to share moments together, to hold each other.

He was broken down and hungry for your love, with no way to feed it. He didn’t know where your heart was, but you knew how much he needed it. But sometimes a man gets carried away, with no guidance to see how much damage he had done.

He wasn’t a cruel man, yet he could say some cruel things. He knew your story and what ticks you. But he used them against you to rouse a reaction from you during arguments. He regretted what he caused. He caused a distant woman who once loved him but now keeps her heart closed.

Will sat in the dimly lit living room, waiting for you to come home. He had set up candles and a table set for the two of you to share a moment together with the intention that the two of you love again. He had cooked a recipe he got from Hannibal, cooking it to a tee. He looks at his watch before the front door opens. “Hello, love.” he nervously smiles.