Chapter 26

The sun went down and Anna and Peter went to bed. Peter didn’t have sex with her before they went to sleep, but held her until he began snoring. She scooted out from his embrace and lay staring up at the ceiling as memories of her last night with Alex in their home swirled around in her mind. Tears filled her eyes and she glanced at Peter. He was sound asleep and didn’t wake easily. Would he hear her if she got up?

Determined to not think too much about it, she slipped out of bed and crept to her dresser. She pulled out clothes and then went to the bathroom to dress. Peter hadn’t moved when she returned to the bedroom. Her keys were in a box of in the closet and she slid them into her pocket before grabbing shoes and tiptoeing out of the apartment and into the hallway. She slipped on her shoes, then hurried to the elevator, looking up the bus information on her phone on the way down. Two blocks away, a bus would pick her up and take her close to the house. She hurried down the sidewalk to the bus stop kiosk to buy a ticket.

The bus was pulling up as she arrived and she got on and found a seat in the back. As it pulled away from the curb, she began to doubt her plan. But what was wrong with going to see her old house? She wasn’t running away. She just... wanted to see it.

The bus ride would take about a half hour. She grasped her phone and stared out the window, watching the city pass by. Any moment Peter would call, furious, and demand she come home immediately. As soon as she arrived at the house, she would turn the phone off. She knew Devin could track her using her phone, somehow, but she needed it to find her way.

Her old neighborhood was about a half-mile walk from the bus stop. The journey took much longer than she’d thought it would, but when caught sight of the entrance to the neighborhood, her heart lifted. The big wrought-iron gates were closed, but she had a key on her ring to unlock the smaller person-sized gate along the sidewalk. Within moments, she was walking down the circular road toward the house.

Her heart raced as the side of the imposing white house came into view. No lights shone from the windows, nor was the porch light on. Why would it be? The front yard was impeccably maintained as it always had been, and, aside from the obvious lack of life inside, it was as beautiful and pristine as it had been the day Alex brought her home for the first time.

She walked up to the front door and hesitated as she stepped up onto the porch. Was it still her house? Would the key work after all this time? Did she really want to confront the memories that lay sleeping within?

Part of her wanted to run away. But she wanted—no, needed—something of Alex’s. She needed his comfort, his strength, his peace, even if he was dead. Would the house still smell like him?

Biting her lip, she held her breath as she inserted the key into the lock and turned it. A breath of relief escaped her lips as the door swung open, but her relief quickly turned to anxiety at the sound of the familiar beep from across the entryway.

The alarm. She desperately searched her memories as she hurried to the glowing panel on the wall. After staring at the numbers for a few seconds, she pushed the code she remembered and winced. It felt like an eternity between punching the last number and hearing the confirming double beep.

She flipped the light switch and stared at the spot on the marble floor where Alex had kissed her for the last time. She walked to the window where she’d watched him drive away and looked out, remembering the dread that had filled her heart as the SUV disappeared around the curve.

The table and rug still stood in the center of the entryway, but the white vase Alex had kept filled with pink roses was gone.

She slowly wandered through the house, sliding her hands along the walls and furniture, soaking in the memories of her beloved husband for the first time in two and a half years. An unexpected peace descended on her as she did so. She stopped in the great room and stared at their wedding pictures.

Anna hardly recognized herself as she studied the photographs. She looked so happy. Alex was so handsome. Overwhelmed by emotion, she reached out, gently pulled the picture of Alex from the wall, and cradled it to her chest. Tears streamed down her face and her heart ached for him. The pain was as sharp and raw at that moment as it had been on the day she’d learned of his death.

Without thinking, she turned and sprinted up the stairs, her steps echoing through the empty house, until she burst into the master bedroom. The sight of the neatly made bed flooded her mind with memories of the many times they’d made love in that bed. Oh, what she wouldn’t give for one more moment with him, one more kiss from him, one more time in his warm embrace.

Walking into Alex’s closet, she closed her eyes and let his lingering essence saturate her entire being. The scent seeped into her lungs and wove itself into her memories. His ghostly presence soothed the deep bruises in her heart and, somehow, caressed her aching soul toward healing.

She pulled his clothes off the hangers, one by one, until a large pile formed on the floor in front of her. She looked at the pile for a long moment, then, overwhelmed with emotion, buried herself in the soft clothing, clutching the picture of Alex to her chest, and drifted off into the first peaceful sleep she’d had in months.