If he put his arms around her, his touch seared her skin. But not in the way it use to. It no longer ingited a flame, it no longer made raw passion creep from the inside-out until she couldn't control it anymore. She was no longer scared, because their was nothing left to be scared of.

Now his touch pained her, causing angry little red bumps up and down her arms. It brought the dull pain she tried to keep hidden to a sharp and rolling boil.

They weren't lovers. He didn't hold her at night anymore. He didn't take her hand and lead her into the night with a micheveous grin anymore. He didn't even say her name anymore.

They weren't friends, they never really were. They didn't talk about their lives, they didn't sit down for tea in the mornings together.

They weren't enemies. Because really, in the end, he was all she had left.
It will always be me and you, babe
He was right in that way. They were alone in their grief, and pulling each other down to drown in it. One by one everyone moved on, while they stood still.

She remembered a converstation, her and Naomi had before she stopped coming round.

"I thought he would go crazy, I was sure of it. The cook I knew would have torn the world apart for tearing away something he loved so much. " She flicked an ash into the already overfull tray on the table. Effy knew that Naomi was trying to ignore the debris that was her kitchen.

"Sometimes when everything you have is gone, there is nothing worth tearing apart" Effy blew out a smoke ring and got momentarily lost in the way it floated up towards the ceiling fan and slowly disappeared. "People don't destroy things that aren't important. You never hear anyone bitching about someone destroying the cobbler's store"

Although Naomi didn't say it. It wasn't just Cook she expected not to be able to go on, but Effy as well. She would never voice the thoughts out loud, but she thought that the demise of Freddie would be Effy's end. Her final end.

Before she left, claiming she had to meet Emily at the travel agent's, even though their next trip to Japan was already well sorted out, she realized something. Cook was already torn apart, Effy was already dead. The house showed what they did not. The deterioration, and lack of upkeep, and caring. Laundry and garbage pilled up. Old dishes in the sink and paper plates on the floor. At least a week worth of take out was on the counter. It was like it was all to much to keep pretending like it was going to be okay.

She knew they kept on living because he had died.

Most nights he passed out on the couch, and she curled up in bed alone. It was those nights, when Cook's snores were far away, and although she was exhausted, sleep eluded her, that she imagined it. When her eyes were glued open, and the lull of the air conditioner was no comfort, she imagined he was in the room.

He was reprimanding her about her unkempt appearance (she hadn't had a bath in almost a week) but all the while he was still running his hands through her greasy hair as if it were sheets of silk. Even as he teased her, he had a bit of a smile on his lips.

"Don't let yourself go for me, girl" He said, holding her body tight against his. "Your never gonna figure out what you want, even if it's too late"

She said nothing. She missed him with all she had. Even in death, he drove her mad. He pushed her over the edge like no one else ever had. And he fought like hell to bring her back.

A bottle being knocked over in the next room startled her, and when she turned back from the doorway, he was gone. Only a shell of her memory she conjured to console her.

And she fought like hell to bring him back