One, two, three, four...

The big grandfather clock is loud in the big, empty house.

Yesterday 10:47pm "Sorry baby, working late again, don't wait up."

The house is cold, and dark, and yet the hum from the fridge is so loud, the tick of the clock puts you on edge.

You're spiraling again.

He's been doing this recently. Late, late nights working on some case, big city lawyer your husband was.

The front door opens. Jack doesn't even see you sitting on the floor, heading straight for his office... as usual. He's grumbling about something, always something.