May 10, 2014 11:42 am EDT
She’d cried at least once a day since March fourteenth.
Sally touched her iPhone to silence the alarm. She reached to the left side of the bed, the side nearer the bedroom door, and found it empty. Again. Ted was gone, she reminded herself. Gone. Forever.
She wiped away a single tear, quickly sliding off the bed, and lightly walked down the hall to her kitchen. She could smell the richness of fresh brewed Starbucks coffee.
It wasn’t Ted who’d started the coffee, but an electronic timer, she reminded herself.
Most days, she took her coffee black, straight—she enjoyed the warm jolt, the taste she adored and hated too. This morning, she’d add heavy cream and sugar. Change is good, Sally thought. Ted had taken his coffee black, too.