It had been a week. A week since the world had gone silent for Stella. She hadn't spoken a word, hadn't shed a tear in front of anyone. But now, she was back where she had been every night since that day—standing in front of his grave, staring at the cold, unfeeling stone that bore his name.
Simon Winchester
A best friend, and a best husband.
Her lips quivered as she read the inscription, the weight of those words crushing her chest. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the damp earth, pressing her forehead against the ground as a strangled sob tore from her throat.
The tears she had been holding back for a week spilled freely, glowing faintly in the moonlight. She clenched her fists, her body shaking as memories surged through her mind—his voice, his touch, the way he used to look at her.
"Your tears are beautiful, Stella. Just by looking at them, anyone can tell you're a mermaid. But never cry in front of anyone. I want you to be my strong little fish. Everyone has pain, and I will go through it with you. But never give up."
Her breath hitched as his voice echoed in her head. She lifted her face, her tear-streaked eyes locking onto the tombstone as if he would somehow answer her.
"You broke your promise," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
A lump formed in her throat, her fingers trembling as she traced his name on the stone.
"You said you'd go through everything with me. You swore you'd never leave."
Her vision blurred with fresh tears. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing this to be some cruel dream. But when she opened them again, nothing had changed. He was still gone.
"How am I supposed to survive this without you?" she murmured brokenly. "You left me, Simon. You broke every promise."
A gust of wind rushed past her, rustling the trees, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't him.
"Come back," she whispered, her voice cracking as she curled into herself, as if folding small enough would make the pain hurt less. But it didn't. Nothing did.
And as the night stretched on, she stayed there, drowning in a grief that had no end.
Stella sighed, dragging her feet back home.
The air inside was cold, untouched. She didn't bother turning the lights on. Darkness felt more fitting, more comforting, like it understood her pain better than the world outside ever could.
She sank onto the couch, her fingers numbly gripping her phone. The screen lit up, illuminating the one thing she couldn't bring herself to change—her wallpaper.
It was their photo.
A moment frozen in time, a memory of the night he had pulled her into the rain, spinning her into a dance beneath the storm. The picture was just an outline—their silhouettes against the golden light of the setting sun. Simon had bent her back in a dramatic dip, his strong arms holding her securely, one hand gripping her thigh as he lifted it slightly. Her arms had been wrapped around his neck, their lips pressed together in a kiss that felt like forever. The only thing truly visible in the photo was the delicate tattoo on her wrist— Simon.
Her fingers trembled as she unlocked her phone, scrolling through the gallery. She hesitated before clicking on a picture—the one from that night. Their first night.
The image stared back at her. Simon's arm draped lazily over her waist, his face buried in her hair as they lay tangled together in sleep. She had taken that picture in the quiet hours of the morning, thinking they had a lifetime ahead of them.
Her breath hitched.
"I thought we could relive the memories by watching them…" she whispered to the empty room. Her voice broke, barely above a murmur.
"But I never thought… they'd be all I have left."
She clicked on another video.
The screen lit up, showing a familiar scene—their kitchen, warm and filled with laughter. The camera wobbled slightly, capturing only Simon's hands as they reached out, stealing pieces of food from the counter.
"Stella, you seriously call this edible?" his voice teased, rich and full of amusement.
She heard herself gasp in mock offense. "Excuse me? You're the one who keeps eating it!"
A deep chuckle followed, filling the silence of her empty home. The video showed only fleeting glimpses—his hands, his silhouette moving past the light, the way he towered over her just out of view. But she didn't need to see his face. She could picture it perfectly in her mind—the way his lips curled into a smirk, the way his eyes gleamed with mischief.
Would she ever hear that laugh again? Would she ever smile like she did in that moment?
Before she could even process the ache in her chest, the screen flickered.
Then it went dark.
Her phone had run out of battery.
She let out a bitter chuckle, her fingers tightening around the lifeless device.
"Looks like my life is blank too," she whispered.
Empty.
Just like the screen in her hands.
A sharp pain twisted in her chest. She felt lost. Drifting. Like a part of her had been buried with him, leaving her in a world that no longer made sense.
And she didn't know how to live in it without him.
Meanwhile, Mallory reached home, her steps slowing as she frowned at the eerie silence.
Something felt… off.
She was about to call out when the creak of the front gate made her spin around. Rocco had just arrived, but instead of stepping inside, he stood frozen at the entrance, scowling.
"What the hell?" he muttered, trying to push forward, only to be met with an invisible force.
Mallory folded her arms. "It's a spell we put up three years ago. No supernatural creature can enter."
Rocco shot her a glare. "Seriously?"
She smirked slightly, but the unease in her chest didn't let her enjoy it. "Come in," she allowed, and instantly, the barrier vanished. Rocco stepped inside, his posture tense, as if something was clawing at his senses.
"I need to talk to you—" he started but abruptly stopped, his head snapping toward the hallway. His brows furrowed, his eyes scanning the house with unsettling focus.
His nostrils flared.
"There's a heartbeat," he said, voice low, cautious. "Faint. Too faint."
Mallory's blood ran cold. Her mind raced—who else was supposed to be here?
Then realization struck.
Her breath hitched as her eyes widened.
Without another word, she ran.