Two weeks into the new year, Beca's parents and stepmother and Jesse's parents all returned back to their respective homes, and Beca and Jesse were left alone in the house they had shared with their family. As alone as they could be, when the Bellas and the Trebles spent almost every waking moment with them.
It was hard. It was harder than Beca ever thought it would be, as she watched Benji and Donald and Cynthia Rose box up the toys that she had watched her children play with every single day, tucking them up into the attic. She cried as she watched Fat Amy and Aubrey put away the stacks of books that she had read Connor, Rosie and Isaac a thousand times each, a thousand times in a day when they were sick. And she sobbed as she packed away the clothes that her three children had danced around in playfully, while she tried to get something done around the house.
At night time it was the worst. The house sounded too quiet, it felt too empty. The day their parents left, Beca, out of instinct, had sleepily pointed her head into the room Rosie slept in to check on her, before reality set in and Jesse had found her sobbing in the hallway.
He had done his best to bite back tears, as he helped her off the carpet, keeping his arms around her as they moved back towards their room.
"I'm sorry", she had sobbed into his chest and Jesse bit back his tears, trying to stop them from falling. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Jesse".
He had cradled her in his arms, kissing the top of her head and rubbing her back. "It's okay, Bec", he had said soothingly, his voice catching in his throat.
Some days were worse than others. Sometimes it them like a blow to the guts, as a rush of memories and emotions washed over them. Jesse had sat at his desk at work for forty minutes, staring at the photo taken the past Halloween, of Connor in his Buzz Lightyear costume (Toy Story was Connor's true love), Rosie in her little tutu and crown (because she had been indecisive about whether or not to be a ballerina or a princess, so he and Beca had simply combined the two) and four month old Isaac, dressed as a baby chicken ("he's gonna hate us, Jesse", Beca had chuckled, as she tied the elastic of his hat under his chubby baby chin). The fact that he wouldn't get to go trick or treating with his kids that October made his heart hurt, and tears sting at the back of his eyes.
Beca had walked past the colourful cereal boxes in the supermarket and had heard the voices of two small children sitting in a shopping trolley, begging their mother for colourful, sugar coated cereal, and the squeals of delight when she relented and let them choose their favourite kind. Beca had sat her basket down and fled, because she had been in the same position as those children's mother so many times, as Connor and Rosie complained about their 'boring Cheerios'.
Some days were harder than others, and Beca was the first to admit it, but they were getting by as best as they could.
