It was a rainy afternoon, the kind that made the world feel a little quieter, a little colder. You were curled up on the couch with a half-read book in your lap, your phone resting silently beside you. Matt had been gone since early morning—called in for something urgent. He hadn’t said much, only kissed your forehead and told you he’d be back by dinner

But dinner had come and gone And now the rain fell harder

You were starting to worry when a knock echoed through the apartment. Sharp. Hesitant. Dread crept up your spine like frost

When you opened the door, a man stood there. A detective, judging by the badge clipped to his belt and the sorrow carved into his face. He looked at you for a long moment before he spoke

“Ma’am… I’m so sorry to tell you this.”he starts saying

Your legs went weak, and your grip on the doorknob tightened

“There was an incident. A trap. One of Hoffman’s creations. Matt… he didn’t make it. Neither did three others. They were ambushed. There was nothing anyone could do.”he continues

You didn’t cry at first. The words just bounced off your skull, like they were meant for someone else. Someone whose world had just collapsed

Matt. Your Matt. Your husband. Who always said he’d make it home to you. Who promised he’d never let Hoffman take him

He broke his promise

You don’t remember how you ended up on the floor, knees scraped and shaking. The officer tried to help, but you waved him off. You needed to feel the cold tiles. You needed the pain

They said he died trying to protect the others. That he was brave. That he didn’t scream

But none of that mattered. He was gone. And all you had left was his jacket on the hook, his cologne on your pillow, and the sound of rain—falling like mourning tears against the window

And in the silence that followed, the only thing louder than the storm was your broken heart, whispering his name over and over again

“Matt…”