She is alone. In her bed. Like last night… and the night before that.
She knows she’d better get used to it, but that’s not an option right now.
The sun is shining bright through her white curtains and warmth embraces the room, still she feels cold, like the darkness is cutting its sharp claws into her flesh and sucking all joy out of her, then leaving her body empty.
She’s thinking about him again. Hell, how can she not? Wherever she looks she’s greeted by memories of him. Memories that make sweat stick to her forehead and her head ache.
She looks at her night stand and sees her phone. She stares at it with a blank expression. They’re whole life as a couple is basically on that device. Photos they’ve taking together, texts they’ve sent each other. She would almost be able to experience all they’ve ever been through together if just she unlocked the phone. The screen lights up as an Instagram notification pops up. Taking a look at it to see that it was nothing more than a ‘like’, she also sees a missed call and a voice mail belonging to it, from Rob. Based on the date both notifications were from, he had called her, before he had connected with Heaven, she’s not sure how long before. She wasn’t there. She didn’t get his call, didn’t have the chance to hear his last words to her, and it kills her. He left a message. She lies back on her pillow again so she can think. The last proof of the love of her life’s existence is few inches from her, but she can’t listen to it. She just can’t.
What happens when the words are spoken and all she has left is silence? Can she let the last memory slip through her fingers just like sand from Sahara?
Another like on Instagram causes her phone to awake and she looks at the screen again.
‘1 missed call from Rob’
His number is still typed in her contacts, like she can hit the button and talk with him anytime she wants. But she can’t.
Her gaze slides further around in their room. ‘Their’. She sighs and notices that the smell of perfume that used to blend in with the others is missing, when she breathes in. She feels like someone is pressing needles into her heart and she holds her breath so she won’t be able to smell what is not there but what is supposed to be there.
His t-shirt is lying on the floor and she feels the needles pressing even deeper in.
Trying to escape the memories that is haunting her, she turns around in her bed so she’s facing the other part of the room and the side of the bed he used to sleep in.
The needles are pressing so deep into her heart that it feels like they’re touching each other by the end. She closes her eyes and tries to catch her breath when the pain disappears.
She misses having him around. She misses how he used to talk to her, place sweet pecks on her forehead as she passed by him, tell her he loved her, that she was beautiful and… That he wanted to marry her…
She swallows hard and coughs when the dryness scratches the inside of her throat.
A tear makes its silent escape from the corner of her eye, and reminds her of him. Reminds her of how he comforted her when she cried. Another tear runs down her cheek. All she wants is to be in his arms and have him whispering soothing words in her ear, like he did whenever she was sad about something.
The sun is throwing glimmering spots on her wrist and catches her eye. She sees her tattoo in an ocean of warming light. She remembers when she got it… and why she got it. Staring at the little infinity sign, slash, 8 on right underneath her palm she sniffs and realizes she’s been crying even more. She lets the thumb on her other hand run over the black ink. She sighs when the meaning of the small painting passes her mind. She was supposed to be with him forever, from ‘08 ‘till forever, but it was ruined by the only thing that has the ability to kill true love. Death.
She starts sobbing and the tears messes with the sweat sticking to her heated skin.
She wants him to be there, calm her, tell her it was all a dream and that he’s alive and loves her, but she knows it’s all pure impossibility.
The sound of a car driving past her window brings back memories to her. Memories of the phone call she got some days ago.
- flashback -
She was at home having a day off from filming. Rob should’ve been on his way home now, but he always called her before he left work. She guessed he was just running late on set so she didn’t worry that much.
Her cell rang in the kitchen and she ran to get it. Assuming it was Rob, she answered it without looking at the screen.
“Hey honey, you’re coming home?” she cooed into the phone with a smile playing on her lips.
“I’m sorry Miss, this is Officer Mosby, this cell phone was found on the street. I dialed the last number called. Can you tell me who you were expecting to hear?”
She swallowed hard.
“My boyfriend, Robert…”
“Can you make your way to the hospital please? I’m afraid your boyfriend was in a car accident and….”
Time stood still. The officer kept talking but she didn’t understand a word. A car accident? Rob? What? What had happened? She felt like fear crept in her veins and made her blood freeze. She couldn’t move. The phone dropped from her hand and the voice became lower and lower.
- end of flashback -
Looking at her phone to check the time, she sees the reminder of the voice mail she has awaiting and feels like it’s a sign, like Rob wants to talk to her, even if those words were the last he ever spoke.
She grabs the phone, with tears on the verge of her eyes and her heart beating madly in her chest. She unlocks it and presses ‘listen’ with trembling hands.
His voice fills her ear.
Smiling and sobbing she feels all her broken pieces meet, but before they can combine and become one, they fall apart again.
When the message is over and she’s been told which numbers that will lead to which actions, she decides to repeat the message, but this time she’s only sobbing.
When the voice mail is done playing once again, she puts her phone back on the night stand and sighs heavily.
She closes her eyes and tries falling asleep. She hopes, she knows it would never happen, but she hopes, that when she wakes up, Rob will be lying right next to her, breathing… and smiling, smiling at her. She would be smiling too, and she would kiss him like she’d never get the chance again. She would marry him and give birth to his children. She would tell him that she loved him and that she would never love anybody else.
But he won’t be there when she wakes up, ‘cause he’s lying six feet under the ground where it’s cold and he’s alone. She’s alone too, so alone, so cold, so lost.