He stood there, in the the doorway of what used to be the den. It used to have a mahogany coffee table, two armchairs, and a couch that was full of memories of cuddling and deep conversations and...other things. But now it was empty.

He moved on to the kitchen, opening up one of the cabinets. Empty. The fridge was equally as sparse and he looked towards the table where he and Sara used to eat their meals. Breakfast on weekends were always his favourite; they would cook together in their pajamas and then plan their days off together while eating waffles or toast or whatever their hearts desired. He could still picture her sitting there, sipping coffee and pushing a strand of hair out of her face, looking as beautiful as ever.

He hadn't told her that enough. That she was beautiful.

All of a sudden, another image took over his brain. Those same red locks framing a paler version of her face. Her eyes were open but unseeing as she lay there, blood and shattered glass surrounding her.

He had been there when it had happened. He wasn't supposed to be but he had. And maybe if he hadn't she would still be here.

It was supposed to be a surprise.

He'd packed a large picnic blanket from home along with the bouquet of origami roses he'd spent the past hour making. And on the way, he'd stopped at Sara's favourite burger place and gotten burgers, fries and drinks for both of them - a coke for him and a root beer. As he'd been waiting for his order, his eye caught a chocolate cheesecake on display and he order two slices, picturing Sara's smile when she'd see them.

When he'd finished there, he drove over to the hospital and took the elevator up to the fourth floor, bouquet in his hand. He made his way to the nurse's station to find out where he would find his wife but, before he could get there, he heard his name.

"Michael?"

He turned around, smiling as he instantly recognized the voice, his eyes meeting green ones across the hallway. Sara smiled and started over to him, her mouth opening to say something, probably to ask what he was doing there, but she never quite got the words out. All of a sudden, a nurse ran through the hallway, bumping into a startled Sara, making her fall back and right against a cart full of glass vials. Michael was at her side in an instant, yelling for someone to come and help while he lifted Sara's head onto his lap, barely registering the blood that seeped through his clothes.

He could still see her every time he closed his eyes. Those same green eyes that had stared at him with love and warmth just moments earlier would now stare lifelessly at the ceiling, no longer able to register anything.

He hadn't been in their bedroom since it had happened three weeks ago. It was too painful to lie in the same bed that they'd spent hours in, making love or just cuddling and planning their future. Just a month ago, they'd been lying there, planning their next vacation. Sara wanted to go to Egypt; she'd always been fascinated by history and she'd been dying to see the pyramids and tombs ever since she was young. Now she'd never get to see them.

Michael walked over to the window, remembering how he would always find Sara staring outside when he got out of the showers in the morning. He'd watch from the doorway as she looked out the window, completely lost in her own world as the sunlight illuminated her face, making her hair look a few shades lighter. He would watch her for a moment before going over to her and hugging her from behind. She'd always smile and lift her hand to stroke his cheek, both of them staring out the window, quietly enjoying each others company. He loved those moments.

"Sir, are you ready to go?"

Michael looked away from the window, wiping a stray tear from his cheek. Clearing his throat, he turned to the real-estate agent, a 5-foot tall woman with light brown hair and very red lipstick. He nodded to her, "Yeah, I'm sorry, I just needed to see the house one more time."

"I understand. It's hard to leave it all behind," she said sympathetically, and Michael noticed some lipstick on one of her teeth. "But the new owners will be arriving shortly so we have to get going."

Michael nodded. "I'll be out in a minute.

The woman nodded, leaving him alone in what used to be his and Sara's bedroom. Running his fingers over the windowsill one last time, Michael turned and left, closing the door behind him.

Okay wait. Before you grab your torches and pitchforks, this isn't over. I wanted to try something new so, for those of you that have seen the movie, Sliding Doors, I wanted to try something like that. For those of you that haven't, I promise there's more and I'm pretty sure you'll like it. I'll post it as soon as it's written, which will hopefully be soon.

Happy reading!