A fair skinned woman with tight, curly black hair stared dully at a wall, unable to really process anything. She stared at the white, empty wall, the spot on her bed next to her just as void as the wall in front of her. She remembered when it had been filled, just a week ago, by her husband, a sweet man who was just as much human as she was. A half monster, son of a hippocampus. A half monster who, for years, had loved the woman upon the bed, a half god, otherwise known as a demigod. She was the offspring of the god Hypnos, the Greek manifestation of sleep. Though they were different, though they came from two groups that usually fought, they had still fallen deeply in love. It had been like it was fated, their love meant to be. Ever since they were eighteen, they had still loved each other till this very day.

They had kids, too. Two of them. Twins. One a boy, named Jacky, the other, a girl, whom they had named Ginny. They were eleven now, the sweetest things the two parents could ever ask for. Ginny was developing a bit of an attitude, but her brother Jacky kept her in check, remaining just as sweet, caring, and honorable as his father, Daniel Rivera.

Or... at least like his father was.

The woman continued sitting on her bed, thinking about the day she had lost him, tears in her multi colored eyes. It had started with an argument, a pettish one about how they had to be careful about how much they spent, since they were having a bit of a financial issue at the time because Daniel had been sick, and had missed a few days of work because of it. His wife had to stay home from her job and take care of him, since the kids couldn't because they had school, and neither parent wanted to put the pressure of taking care of their father on them. Both the woman and her husband had lost many hours on their paychecks, and they had to put all of it towards bills and their kids college funds.

The woman had been planning a trip to an amusement park in her birth state Washington for months before that, and that was what had brought upon the argument.

"We don't have enough money for that, now, Ty!" He had exclaimed after she had been pleading for a couple of hours.

At that point the woman, Ty, had begun to cry in frustration and desperation. "Danny, please. I've been planning this for months! The kids know about it. We have to go, please. We haven't done anything as a family all year. Please!"

"Ty, would you just stop it already?! We don't. Have. Enough. Money. End of story."

"We can use some of their college funds. They don't need all that money right now! We still have seven years till they do."

Ty remembered painfully the anger in her husband's deep blue eyes. The deep blue eyes that she had fallen in love with fifteen years ago. The same deep blue eyes that she woke up to every morning up to the day of that stupid argument. The same deep blue eyes that held a deep love for the demigod and mother of two. She missed those deep blue orbs, and she wanted them now, so desperately.

But they had left. Right after Ty had said that, about the college funds. He had left her with the car keys, storming out of the house. A couple moments later Ty had heard the car engine start and the sound of wheels rolling out of their driveway. The demigod didn't bother going after her husband. She knew he just needed time to think. That's what he always did when he left her. And she knew where he was going, too. He was driving to the beach, just a thirty minute drive from where they lived. She remembered he Danny had once told her that was where he went when he thought, because they reminded him of his dad, who was his monster parent, the hippocampus, one named Adam who could shift between human and the horse of the sea. He said the beach also reminded him of her, of Ty, because it was the first thing that she had been excited about doing with him, swimming at the beach, when the two had first met, before they had fallen in love with each other.

But he never came back. He never came back home. The car never showed back up in the driveway. Ty never woke up to have his arms around her, lips gently placed to the demigods shoulder as he woke her up with little, tiny kisses, light and careful, loving and sweet. She never woke up to see his deep blue eyes again.

After waking, she had fretfully paced the kitchen, her two kids looking upon their mother with deep concern, not a clue as to what was going on in her mind. She had waited hours for him to return, for him to hold her and comfort her like he had all those times before. She twisted her rings, all three of them. The promise ring Danny had given her a month after they got together, the engagement ring he had given her two years later after they had been living in Boston, near his dad, for a year, and the marriage band he had given her two months after they were engaged. She always wore all three, because Danny had given them to her, never taking them off after he had given her each one.

Around two pm she had gotten the call. Ty hadn't even bothered checking the id, answering it immediately. "Danny?" She had asked hopefully, pleading desperately with the gods that the car had just broken down on him, or that it had been stolen, and he was calling her to go and pick him up or send a cab in his direction.

The voice on the other end of the line wasn't his, though. It sounded official, firm. Not like the soft, smooth voice her husband spoke with. As the voice spoke, tears surged to Tys eyes with each word it said, until, finally, her cellphone dropped from her hand. It clattered on the ground, a spider web arching across its black, smooth screen, a few pieces flaking off and onto the tile floor of kitchen. The woman, now sobbing, pressed her back to the fridge door and slid down it till she was sitting, crying, bringing her knees up to her chest and hugging them there as she tried to process what the person on the line had been saying before she had dropped her phone.

They had said it had been dark when he was driving home, and was just seven miles away when it had happened. Danny was driving home, the long way, to take more time to think. Ty knew that he knew that the long way barely had any street lamps, but he had still taken it. His light had just recently turned green, and he had gone. It was one of those streets without lights. There was a semi without its lights on, coming straight at him, driven by a drunk driver. He couldn't even see it, had no time to react to it, no time to speed up, or back up. The semi had collided violently into the drivers side door. No pain, no agony. Her husband and the love of her life had died instantly, but the semi driver lived.

Ty felt herself begin to cry again as she thought about it the day. She drew her knees up to her chest, hugging them there, wanting Danny to be there to wrap his arms around her and comfort her again, like he always did. But he couldn't. He was gone. For good. Her husband would never return home to hold her in his arms again, would never gently kiss her awake every morning like he had for fifteen years. She wouldn't ever see his deep blue eyes again, never hear him tell her that he loved her at the mark of each hour every day they were around each other again. She'd never see his smile, feel his warmth, love his laugh again.

Everything about him was gone, and the last time she had seen him, he was mad. Furious, even. He didnt even said good bye, or told her that he loved her one last time before he left. He didn't even give her a small hug, or a simple kiss cheek. He never did when he was mad, but she still missed it. She still wished that he had done those things, just that one time, the very last time he was able to leave her, the very last time she had seen him.

You didn't even say goodbye... She thought as she cried. She glanced to her nightstand, where a picture of the two of them sat. Danny had his arms wrapped around Ty, and was blowing a raspberry on her neck, making his wife giggle and squirm. She remembered the fun they had had that day, the day they had found out she was pregnant with the twins. He wouldn't stop tickling her, and she had laughed so much she had started to hiccup.

Ty smiled softly at the memory, and she picked up the picture frame, gazing at her deceased husbands face through tear blurred eyes. Goodbye, Danny. She thought. I love you. Forever and always.