Chapter One: Gone

She twisted the gold band on her left hand as she looked at the phone, lost in her own daydreams. She knew he wouldn't call, but part of her couldn't help wishing that he would. She could feel fresh tears slide down her cheek and she slapped them away almost violently in an effort to forget the harsh reality. She could still see the picture hanging on the wall as she walked by it for the last time. How long had it been since that picture was taken? It seemed like a lifetime ago. Once upon a time, she had been his whole world; now she wondered if she was even the slightest drop in his ocean.

It had only been three hours since she had packed up all her things and left the house; leaving the note behind in the only place, she knew he would find it. She wondered if he would even notice that she was gone, and more importantly she wondered if he would care. That was the hardest truth of all. She would have stayed and fought beside him until they brought the entire world to their knees –but she would never stay in a place where she wasn't a vital part of his existence.

When had she stopped being the air he needed to breathe? He never stopped being it for her. She felt like she was suffocating.

He could feel the wind battering against his rib cage as he struggled to find the key hole in the darkness. There was a quick flash of light coming from somewhere in the distance and he was suddenly feeling the bitter chill course through his veins. Something was off. Even the house felt different when he finally stepped inside and closed the door.

He could see the shadows on the wall as he stumbled in the darkness, struggling to find the light in absolute blackness. He could almost hear his own heart thumping in his chest as he adjusted to the sound of silence. Why did the house seem so big now?

He dropped the keys on the table and looked into the refrigerator, where Nora had usually left some sandwiches when he couldn't make it home for dinner. There weren't any plates of food this time.

"Just as well," he thought as he turned out the light and headed for the stairs. He knew she was probably sleeping and he was just tired enough to skip the meal altogether. If he was lucky, maybe he could even slip into a shower without having to fight with her again.

The room was empty—the bed made just as neatly as if no one had been there at all. Her pillow didn't smell like her anymore; there wasn't a trace of her perfume. That was when he saw the tiny white envelope sitting against his pillow. He slumped down onto the edge of the bed and traced the outline of her handwriting before opening the letter. He had a pretty good idea what was in the letter. He could feel it right down to his bones.

Dearest Bo,

I'm sorry I was too much of a coward to say this to your face but it hurts me too much to look at you right now and know that you still won't choose me. I respect your decision to support your son and I honestly hope for your sake that he really is innocent. I just wish that you had trusted me enough to consider my feelings when you were confessing to murder. I wish I meant enough to you to want to work this out. But that's just it Bo…This has been going on for weeks and you still won't talk to me…Most of the time I feel like a stranger in my own home and I'm not even sure if you love me anymore. How can I stay with a man if I have to question something I once knew without a single doubt? I love you more than you will ever know—but you don't need me anymore. Most days I feel just like that picture on the wall—you don't even know that I'm there. Maybe we just need some space. I hope with all my heart that this isn't truly the end for us because honestly you have been the greatest love I have ever known. I just have to put myself first for a change. I hope one day you'll miss me as much as I already miss you.

Loving You,
Nora

He dropped the letter as he stared at the empty bed. For a moment, he just sat there in shock. She was gone; she was really gone.

As much as they fought in the last few weeks, he didn't really expect that one day he would come home to find her gone. He never even gave the thought any merit. She had always just been there. Maybe that was unfair…he knew if he was honest with himself, he could admit at least that much…

But there was also that voice in his head…the voice that gave his own wounded heart some credibility in the darkest hour…the voice that told him it was for the best.