There were no lights. He didn't care. It was better that way, then the light wouldn't bring any memories. Memories of her.
He missed her with all the pieces of his heart. His body was a shell, carrying only the memories of a happier time. The perfume she wore, the way the scent would filter up his nose and fill him with joy. The way her soft hands felt on his tough, calloused ones. The tender kisses she gave him when she entered the room. The soft laugh that came from within her very soul. The way her bright smile would light up a room the moment she entered. Those sensations would never exist again.
The room was cold around him, matching the temperature of his heart. His tear-streaked face was now stoic, also imitating the coolness of a Vulcan. There were knocks at his door, voices calling his name. Responsibilities, they called out. We need you, they called out.
Lies. No one needed him. They were luring him out, trying to make him forget her. Anger sprouted inside him. His sorrow and pain fuelled the fires of hate. They would never get him! Never!
Then the voice came. So much like hers. It's vulnerability, it's innocence pleaded him. Come out Dad, come out. I miss you Daddy. Please come out.
In the depths of his soul, feeling returned. He was needed. This little being, his daughter needed him. His wife may be gone, but part of her remained. That was his job now. Slowly, but steady, Commander Charles 'Trip' Tucker the Third walked over to the door, and hugged his daughter.