_Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter. _The rain on the windshield blurred the slick roads ahead of me, turning everything a dull gray. I should have focused on the car, on the wheel in my hands, but the only thing in my mind is that autumn night. Six years ago, and it was still fresh in my mind, as if it had been yesterday. 

_“What constellation is that?” the boy lying on the roof beside me asked, pointing up at the bright stars in the sky. Sounds of the party in the house floated up to us, penetrating the beautiful silence. _

_ __I smiled. “Haven’t I already told you that one?” _

_ __“I just like to hear your voice,” he said. I could hear the smile in his words, making my heart flutter._

_ __“Ursa Major.” I kept my eyes focused on the clear stars. “Shouldn’t you know that one by now? I think you’ve asked me about it at least four times. Not that I’m keeping track,” I added as an afterthought. _

_ __He laughed, a beautiful twinkling sound, music to my ears. “You know me,” he said. “I’ve got the memory of a goldfish.”_

_ __“Oh yeah?” I grinned. “Then how do you remember my favorite ice cream flavor?”_

_ __“Tsk tsk,” he said. I could still hear the grin on his face. “That’s different, my dear. Ice cream and stars are very, very different things.”_

_ __“What about my lip balm?” I asked. “You always seem to know what kinds I use.”_

_ __“Pft, I don’t know what kind you’re wearing all the time,” he said. “I only know when I see you putting it on. I don’t know what kind you’re using right now.”_

_ __“Oh, yeah?” Right into my trap. My heart was pounding, just about ready to jump out of my chest. “Why don’t you kiss me and find out?”_

_ __He sat up halfway, looking over at me. I sat up, too. Our hands brushed. Those two seconds seemed to stretch into an hour._

_ __“Maybe I will,” he whispered, grabbing the front of my shirt and pulling me close. His lips hit mine, and I melted into his touch, kissing him back. A moment later, he pulled away. Kiss #1._

_ __We looked at each other, not sure what to do next. _

_ __“I love you Alex,” I said, my hand finding his. Our fingers intertwined. His warm hand in my cold one. _

_ __He leaned forward. “Theo, that’s a little gay,” he whispered conspiratorially. _

_ __I laughed, shoving him playfully so he fell back onto the roof. _

_ __“Love you too, Theo,” he said, smiling wide. The sounds of the party below us seemed to fade away, leaving us, just us, on the roof._

_ __“Orange.”_

_ __“What?” I laughed, looking at him. My face was still flushed bright red. _

_ __“Your lip balm,” he said. “It’s orange flavored, right?”_

_ __I laughed again. “Yeah, it is. It is.”_

The bright red light screamed at me to stop. I pressed down on the brake, coming to a quick stop on the wet roads. As the cross-traffic speeds through the intersection, I remember that autumn day two weeks ago.

_A bird flew overhead, song bursting forth from its beak. The wind rustled my hair, messing up the hour of work I had done to get it to lay flat, but I didn’t care. I just cared about the man standing across from me, his crisp white suit shining in the sun._

_ __“Do you, Theodore Anton, take this man, Alexander Bright, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”_

_ __Beaming, I made my response. “I do.” Across from me, Alex’s smile was enough to melt the Arctic._

_ __I slip the ring onto his finger as he slips one onto mine._

_ __“Then, by the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss the groom.”_

_ __Alex pulled me towards him, his lips meeting mine. Kiss #3432. I wrapped my arms around him, melting into his touch in the same way I did six years prior. Looking into his shining eyes, I had never felt happier._

I drew closer, my hands beginning to shake as they gripped the steering wheel. I flicked the lever to my left, sending the windshield wipers across the window. I remembered that evening just two days ago.

_“Hey, Theo, I’m heading out for groceries, I’ll be back in just a little bit, okay?”_

_ __“Alright honey,” I said, pressing a kiss to his lips. Kiss #3467. “I’ll see you in a bit. Love you!” _

_ __“I love you more!” He disappeared as the door shut behind him. _

I got the call two hours later. 8:04 pm. The call that said that there had been a terrible accident. A tragic accident. The call that changed my life. 

I parked my car, approached the small gathering. I hadn’t bothered to bring an umbrella, and I was a few minutes late. It’s not like they could start without me. 

Throughout the service, my mind was somewhere else. If anyone were to have asked me where it was, I wouldn’t be able to answer. 

The reception passed in a blur, a blur full of empty apologies, hollow condolences, faces full of pitying sympathy, eager to meet the man who got married and lost his husband in less than two weeks. 

I excused myself after what felt like hours, but had only been twenty minutes. No one tried to get me to stay. They couldn’t be bothered. 

The drive home on the now-drying roads went quickly, though I did everything in my power to slow it down. Too soon, I arrived in front of a small house painted olive green. His favorite. 

I parked the car in the garage, unlocked the front door, hung my purple jacket on the hook inside. I was running purely on instinct, trying to block out everything else around me, but the second I turned to the kitchen everything hit me at once.

His mug on the counter, unwashed and empty.

His jacket hanging next to mine.

His favorite sourdough, sitting untouched on the counter.

Choking back a sob, I picked up my thermos with shaking hands and took a sip of my tea. His favorite kind.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I sank to my knees, sobbing into my hands because my beautiful Alex wasn’t ever going to use that mug, wear that jacket, eat that sourdough again. 

What felt like hours later, I stumbled to the bedroom, collapsing on the rumpled sheets. I tried to block out everything as I laid there in the dark, but I couldn’t block out the smell of his cologne lingering on the sheets.

Hours later, as the moonlight streamed through the window, I still laid there. I pulled up the blankets with stiff arms, laying back on the pillows, making sure to keep to the left side. 

Everything felt as it should, except for the missing warmth next to me.

“I-I love you,” I said, my voice coming out as a croak.

Everything was right, except for the sweet voice coming from the other side, saying, “_I love you more._”