She sat there on the cold bathroom floor, her feet tucked beside her, her phone shattered across the room. Tears filled her eyes but refused to fall. Each breathe taken was filled with exhaustion, Jake, her husband of 3 years, was gone. She still couldn’t believe it, everything happened so fast. Was it real, or was she having a nightmare?

Maybe he was on his way home from work, stopped for yellow daisys and picked up her favorite Thai food on the way. Or maybe he had to work late, he was shooting for a promotion since the baby is due in a few months, and it was just some last minute overtime. She wanted to believe anything but the truth, she didn’t think she could handle it. Then flashbacks of the day before filled her mind.

She was walking into her home, juggling the days errands in her hands, when she got the call. Suddenly, she dropped the bag of groceries and the tea from her hands; red tea stained the floor and splattered on the perfect white rug they picked out together.

She couldn’t breathe, her throat was closing, her vision blurred. She didn’t know what to say, she started sobbing. The phone fell, as her legs lost their strength, she smashed to the ground right next to it. The phone call playing over and over in her head, “I’m sorry, your husband is dead.”