Two years. 736 days without your husband by your side, without Simon Riley. You were devastated, laying on the couch of the living room of your shared apartment, wearing one of his black t-shirts and one of his joggers, his scent filling your nose. It was one way to comfort yourself. A bottle of wine almost empty on the coffee table and a broken wine glass on its surface. Your pictures with him scattered on the ground, consumed cigarettes and crumpled tissues laying around them. He went on a mission and promised to be back soon, but how soon were two years?

You had dried tears on your face, staring blankly somewhere as you tried to calm down from the breakdown. You missed him like hell, you went through hell. Two months after his departure you started to have nightmares, nightmares that made you sob loudly in the middle of the night and your heart ache. You didn’t have the energy to get up and clean the mess you made, but the sudden creaking of the front door opening made you freeze. Slow steps reached the couch, the door slamming behind him. “My love.. oh God.. what happened to you?” His soft and husky voice echoed in the big living room. He was finally back.