Three days later...

I was lying down on Sherry's bed, inhaling her scent. I still couldn't believe that she's gone. I was in denial. Every Holmes has come back from imminent death. Sherlock did. Sherrinford did. And I was in hope that she would somehow come back. And I knew I was wrong. She wasn't coming back, but I liked to think that she would. My wife, my beautiful Sherry. To think that she died, it was too painful.

I had just came home from a meeting with some important people for the Sherry Foundation for Ex Criminals that Want Change for Loved Ones. They agreed to help me, and we had sealed the deal with signing the paperworks. So now, all I need is to start looking for ex criminals. I had one of my friends, Will, who has a six year old daughter, and he agreed to do it for his daughter's sake. So far, this foundation is going good.

"Master Jim, Sherrinford is here to see you." David said. I didn't notice him standing at the doorway. He was devastated when he heard of Sherry's death. I knew how attached he was to her. He loved and cared for her like his own daughter, the daughter he never had. His own family had died in a car crash, and he never really forgave himself for that. I took him in, with his tattered clothes and blood clotted in his hair. The accident happened just a few minutes away from my house, and he had staggered here with his broken leg, begging for help.

Wait. Sherrinford? What does he want? Something of Sherry's? I hurried down the stairs and opened the door. Sherrinford was standing on the doorway, shifting on his leg uncomfortably. He was wearing a black shirt and jeans. Mourning clothes. Normal clothing. He isn't here for business. Strictly Sherry related then.

"Hello, Jim." He greeted.

"Come in, Sherrinford." I gestured to the living room. He nodded gratefully and entered, sitting on his favourite chair, when we were all happy. I took my seat opposite him. I noticed that he was holding something, it looked like a letter. A letter. From Sherry before she...before she died?

"Molly and I had gone through her stuff, looking for some sort of thing that you might have wanted to keep, in memory of her. And while we were looking for it, we came across this." He handed me the letter. "She wrote it. It's addressed to you. We didn't open it, we didn't read it. We figured that if she was to enclose you a letter, then it is by your own right to read it." Sherrinford said.

"Thank you." That's very thoughtful of them. After all I did, and they still were being so nice and considerate for me. I did not deserve such nice people in my life. I did not deserve kindness after all the deceiving, manipulating, evil things I had done. But this was to better myself. This would help me be a better man in Sherry's name.

Then Sherrinford's phone rang. I raised an eyebrow at him. "Hello?" The person on the other side was speaking. "What?! Molly, slow down! You're..." More talking. He was talking to Molly, his wife. Molly Hooper, another person I had lied to and manipulated for my own cause. "Pregnant?! Oh my god, Molly! Hang on, I'll be right there!" He disconnected.

"Molly...she's pregnant!" Sherrinford exclaimed, the happiness and giddy was in his eyes.

"Congratulations!" I cried out, with genuine happiness. I would never wish bad luck for a baby. And this was my wife's brother's happiness, and I would like to see him be happy. "You'd be a terrific father, Sherrinford." I said.

"Thank you, Jim." He seemed a little surprised at my words. I wouldn't blame him. "I need to go. If there's anything else you need, please call me. You still have my number, right?" I nodded. I stood up, ready to escort him out. "Okay, goodbye, Jim." He nodded at me. He was about to walk out when he changed his mind. He strode to me and actually hugged me! I hugged him back.

"Thank you, for giving Sherry the happiness she deserved." He said.

"You were doing most of the happiness part." I said humbly.

"But it was you whom she had loved, not me."

"She loved both of us equally. You as her brother, and me as her husband." I answered.

"Thank you, Jim." He said, pulling away. Then he hurried out, closing the door behind him. Then I sank onto the chair. I opened the letter and started to read.

'My dearest Jim,

My husband. What a wonderful thing to be able to say. Not many women are privileged to call the man she loved her husband. And I had earned the privilege.

To quote Pride and Prejudice, "it is universally acknowledged that a man possessing good fortune, is in want of a wife". It's true. Every rich man wants a wife. That includes you, Jim. You're rich. And now you've got yourself a wife!

I don't want to write about marriage generally. I want to write about us. Jim and Sherry. Sherry and Jim. Nothing else. As I write this, I cried plenty tears, thinking of the horrid things you had said to me. But I was also at blame, leaving you in the first place. I am now in Sherrinford and Molly's, in the guest room. I hope you're not crying there as well. It hurts me to see people cry. It's my weakness. Other people's tears were like my own. I cry when others cry, because I cannot imagine how hurt they would feel, that would make them spill their tears. I hate seeing people get hurt. And that also includes you, James.

I cannot imagine how hurt you must be, when you woke up to find that I had packed up my things and left. Even David didn't know, so don't blame him. I know you said you would be devastated if I ever left, and I felt so guilty that I also turned back and run into your arms once more, hoping to God that you weren't crying.

I forgive you. I forgave you the moment I stepped out of that house. But I thought that when I left and never came back, you would come for me. But you didn't. I don't blame you or anything. It was me, watching too many romantic movies. But that's okay. I forgave you. But we were made to break and fall back together, and I am simply too tired of the same thing. I left not because I was hurt. I left because I didn't want us to get hurt any more than we had. It was simply too much hurt for two people very much in love.

I love you, Jim. I am saying this now, because I might not have any time to tell you this, as we might not even meet. I love you with every fibre of my being. Every cell, every molecule, every particle in me, is in love with you, and always will. So don't feel depressed as every day passes that I've gone. Not one moment passes that I didn't think of you, as much as I shouldn't. But your name, and your face, is memorized in my brain. If I could choose the last thing I could see, I would see your face, and Sherrinford's, and Sherlock's, one last time. If that was the last thing I would see.

There is nothing more I want than to see my boys, my three boys together. And know that I love each and every one of you three with as much love as the universe. And that is a lot of love.

I love you.

Yours forever,

Sherry.'

9 months later...

"Meet Sherry Holmes!" Sherrinford cried out as Molly carried their newborn daughter out to the living room of 221B Baker Street. They had named her after Sherry. Jim was smiling as he saw how beautiful and adorable the baby looked. Sherlock was handed the baby by Molly. He was superb with babies, and baby Sherry loves him. Greg Lestrade and his husband, Mycroft were watching them. Everyone was happy.

Baby Sherry Holmes grew up to be a beautiful girl, who looked almost like Sherry, but with Sherrinford's blue eyes. Jim Moriarty had successfully established the Sherry Foundation for Ex Criminals that Want Change for Loved Ones, and earned a lot, most of them donated to other charities. Sherlock was engaged with John, after Mary's sudden death in childbirth, and the baby died shortly after. Greg and Mycroft were married and adopted a son named William.