I sat in the chair...our chair. He wasn't here with me, but yet, he was.
I could sense him by me, and I couldn't give up the fact that he was...
"Mummy?" Rose came up to me, sitting on my lap.
I looked into her tearful eyes, glistening in the sunlight.
"Yes darling?" I reply to my beautiful daughter.
She had just turned eight when he had gone. He never came back, and now here she was at 10 years old.
"Hugo isn't holding up very well. What do I do?" she asked, tears falling down her face freely.
I rubbed my knuckles against her cheek, getting rid of the tears, and mostly my depression.
"Let's go check on him." I mumble, picking up her elegant body.
Who knew that me and him could make such a magnificent beauty?
I push open Hugo's door, hearing his sobs echo through the room.
He was now 14 years old, young and depressed.
I was 21 when we first had him.
It was HIS idea to name him Hugo.
I thought he was a little nuts, but I still named him.
What a brilliant idea...
"Come in mum." his voice deep and raspy from crying, bounced into my ears.
I walked in, Rose still in my arms, and sit on the edge of his bed.
His head turned to the wall, he starts to cry again.
"I miss him Mum." he says after a moment of silence.
It's quiet around the house now...too quiet.
Ginny and Harry have even called in to see how I was, but I just said that I was holding up.
I can't tell them how I really feel, or else they'll be on my backside for days and weeks to come.
I push Rose out of my lap, and come and hug Hugo tightly.
He returns the hug, and starts to weep uncontrollably.
I go back to that horrific week this all happened.
Backflash:
Me and him had gotten into a row, and he left, leaving me, Hugo, and Rose alone.
The Daily Prophet had heard of the news, and were posting daily news on his whereabouts.
One night, I lost it, and called him on his cell phone which I gave him for Christmas many years ago.
He answered, but he only said very few words.
Like in example 'hi', or even 'I'm ok'.
Three days passed by, and the Daily Prophet finally had heard of his finding.
It was August 26th, when they had the news of finding his body in an alleyway with holes from gunshots, and blood that was dried completely through his shirt.
I wanted to die with him, but I knew that the kids needed a mum to comfort them...so I stayed.
*end of flashback*
I knew now in my heart that it was time to move on.
Ron was dead, and that was done.
Goodbye Ron, my wonderful husband, and the father of our two brilliant kids.