Thanks everyone for the reviews, follows and favs. I love reading them; it what keeps me motivated and makes me want to write. Even when time is limited, but without further ado.. Here's the next part. I hope you'll enjoy it and maybe leave a review? x

Chapter 2: Touch

Another tear runs down her face, and it's being followed by the next and the next. His name slowly dying on her lips as she's unable to pronounce his name once more. Her fingers hold on to the sheets of the empty spot besides her, the duvet not being able to keep her warm anymore. It hasn't been able to keep her warm ever since that one night, as if him being ripped out of her life like that wasn't enough. In everything she did she felt she needed him, sleeping also being one of those things.

But she tries, she tries to go to sleep. To fight whatever it is she's stuck in, just like she always fought for him, for them. She'll never give up fighting, not even now. She buries her face in his pillow, inhaling his scent that's barely lingering around as she closes her eyes again. The memories of him rushing back, until her breath steadies and she drifts away again.

But it's not for long, as her mind replaces the happy memories she trying to hold on to so desperately with that dream again. Or another variant of it, but they all end in the exact same way.

A flash. A bang. A scream.

His voice.

Calling her name, but she never heard it.

Exactly the way it really happened; the dream that wasn't a dream waking her up again and again that night. Just like every night since it happened. She lets out a sigh as she tosses and turns around in the bed, not willing to give in to the dreams, but she's so tired. So tired of having that same dream over and over again, so tired of having to relive that horrible memory every single second of her being. Like it isn't enough to constantly think about it when she's awake. It doesn't matter what she does anymore. Whether she sleeps or stays awake, the images always flashing by her eyes.

She pushes herself up, letting her back rest against the headboard of the bed as her eyes are trying to adjust to the darkness. She looks at the alarm clock on his side of the bed and it's only four in the morning, she focusses on her breathing as her gazes fixates on his pillow. She's trying to recall how he'd pull her closer if she'd wake up in the middle of the night. How he'd press his lips against her neck and whisper that she should go back to sleep. How she'd relax in his embrace, but now when she needs that the most, there are no arms to relax in. Not anymore.

Instead her fingers fidget with his pillow until she lifts it up all together, pulling it in her arms. Holding on to it tightly she hugs it, bringing her head forward, letting it rest on her knees; as the tears fall once more. Her soft sobs alternatingly filling the darkness around her with his name; until she falls in the same pattern as before. Her words, it's only one word, his name, dying on her lips.

It's only an hour and half later as she moves around his apartment, their apartment, she corrects herself. The floor cold against her bare feet, not that she feels it. She can't feel anything anymore; not besides the constant pain her heart is in. The hole he left behind being too big; too big to focus on any physical pain.

She walks towards the kitchen, her fingers going over the newspaper that still on his desk. The one from that day, the date staring her in the face, but she can't bring herself to throw it away. Her eyes now lingering on the glass of scotch that's still standing next to the sink. The glass of scotch that he drank the night before. The night before he left, the night before it happened.

The flowers he'd given her the day before that are still in the vase, but to still call them flowers is too much. It are now only stems as the leaves have fallen off. They've been there for weeks already, but it's another one of those things she can't change.

Her fingers run across the area of the counter next to it. A bit of dust collecting on her finger tops, and she brings her fingers to her lips, blowing the dust away. She wishes she could do that with the pain she's feeling, the hopelessness of the situation she's feeling. It's been two months after all. Two months since she last heard his voice, two months since he kissed her. But she can't, she just can't.

She visits him every day, seven days a week at exactly the same hour. She can't believe that's become their new ritual, but it has. It isn't a long drive, but it's a drive she never imagined to make. To a place she never imagined to visit him, but she does.

She lets out a deep breath as she steps over the threshold, swallowing as she sees what's left of him. It's still him, it's still her husband. It's still Harvey, but at the same time he isn't. Not really, not anymore. Tears welling in her eyes as she feels these thoughts are taking over, and she can't allow herself to think like that. She's after all always been the one that fought, for him, for them.

She pushes the empty chair towards his bed, sitting herself down next to him. Just like every morning. Her hand covers his and she interlocks their fingers, as she lets the index finger of her other hand runs over his ring finger. The mark of his wedding ring still visible.

She stays with him for an hour, just talking to him. Telling him whatever comes to mind. her fingers now playing with the ring on her necklace. The ring with her name engraved in it. His ring.

She lifts herself out of the chair, just standing next to his bed for a couple of seconds. Finally she leans towards him, bringing her lips to his. She kisses him softly, her right hand still holding onto his left hand.

"I miss you," she whispers, her heart skipping a beat as she feels his fingers move in her hand.