I feel the warmth of the sun on my face; without opening my eyes I stretch my arms toward the other side of the bed. It feels cold. When I peel my eyes open, I see that Will has left for work already. I grab his pillow and inhale his scent; the smell of wood mixed with spice invades my nostrils.

Getting up from bed, I head into the bathroom. As I wash my face, I hear my phone go off. I walk toward the dresser and ‘Mom’ displays on the screen. I slide my finger to answer. My mother hates to leave phone messages, so she will just call and call until I answer.

“Good morning, Mom,” I greet her as I walk back to the restroom to get a towel.

“Hi, Sophia, you sound good this morning. Are you feeling better?” she asks as soon as I finish. Weird, I didn’t realize I had been sick.

“I feel good, especially with the news I have.” My excitement is evident in my voice. I hope she is happy with the news.

“Really, sweetheart, what’s going on?” I can hear some caution in her voice. My mother has always been a bit uptight; she hates surprises, but I still love her.

“I think I am ready for a baby!” I scream into the phone. “I’m so excited.”

“You? Pregnant?” There is a trace of disbelief in her tone.

“Well, not technically but I have been thinking about it more and figured why not.” I continue to pace in my walk-in closet. Being married to an architect has its advantages. I have a closet that would make Carrie Bradshaw jealous.

“A baby? Do you think that’s a good idea at this time, honey?”

“Mother, Will and I are in a good place right now. The business couldn’t be better. I work from home so I can take care of the baby. Can’t you be happy for us? This will be your first grandchild. Other parents would be thrilled by this news.”

“And I am. Look, your father and I will be in San Antonio later today and we can talk about it some more, okay?” We hang up with me promising to wait for them before I start sending out baby shower invitations.

I finish dressing and go to the kitchen to have some coffee and breakfast. I dial Will’s number, but I get his voicemail.

“This is Will, leave a message and I will return your call. If this is the most beautiful girl I am lucky to be married to, I want to say I am sorry for not being able to answer when you called. Love you, Sophia.”

“Hi, babe, sorry I missed you this morning. You know I hate it when you leave and I don’t feel your kisses. I am just calling to wish you a great day. I know that you are probably inside a building and can’t get reception, so anyway I love you. Oh, my mom and dad are coming for a few days.”

I could try his business phone but like his personal phone, it probably doesn’t have service or he left it with his assistant at the office.

I get my breakfast and go to my worktable. I have designs and color pallets spread all over my desk. Since Will was able to branch out on his own and build his own firm, we merged our careers together. He builds the structure and I decorate it. With the few clients he made while working on his old firm, we were able to build our roster and now have a very successful business. The best part is that I get to work from home.

I must have been lost for hours in the patterns and colors, because before I know it, I hear the doorbell. My parents are here. I open the door and gesture for them to come in. I hug and kiss them as they step through the doorway.

“How have you guys been?” I ask them, motioning them to take a seat. “Dad, are you tired from the drive? The guest room is ready for you if you want to lie down for a bit.”

“No, I’m good, baby girl. How are you feeling?” my father asks. I can see worry on his face and I have no idea why. I wonder again, was I sick?

“Good. Well, excited. Didn’t mom tell you my awesome news?” I ask. He gives my mother a look between worry and sadness. Really? I’m twenty-eight years old; I think I’m old enough to have a baby.

“Sophia, I called Dr. Duarte after we hung up earlier. He mentioned that you haven’t been to his office in months. Do you want to tell us why?” my mother asks, looking at my father. “How about your medication; have you at least been taking those?”

I get up and move toward the kitchen.

“Anyone want coffee? I have no idea what medication you are talking about. Besides, with me wanting to get pregnant, any kind of medication might harm those chances. I want this more than anything, mom. And tonight I will talk to Will, and I know he will be happy.” I move into the kitchen, turning on the coffee pot.

I walk back into the living room and see my parents whispering angrily.

“Is everything ok? Mom? Dad?” I turn to look at them. I have no idea what is going on.

“Yes.” “No.” They both answer at the same time.

“Sophia, we need to talk.”

“Theresa, let it be,” my father warns my mother.

“Ernesto, we have to stop babying her and praying that everything is going to get better. Obviously it has not. She is trying to have a baby. A baby. Aye Dios.”

“She is sitting right here. Can you guys tell me what’s going on?” I look first at my father; he shakes his head. He looks like he wants to be anywhere else right now.

“Mom?” I turn to her. My mother never sugar coats anything. She is blunt to a fault.

“Sophia, Will died six...” All I hear is a buzzing noise. I can see her mouth moving but the sound is gone. What did she say? Will, dead? No. No.

“Why would you say that, mom? He was here last night and this morning,” I yell at her as I go to my work table to get my phone to call him, so my mother can hear him and see that he is alive. My hand is shaking as I press on his name.

“I am going to have him talk to you so can stop saying those lies.” As I say this, his voicemail comes on again.

“Baby, can you come home and tell my mother that you are not dead. Why would she say something like that?” As I leave the message, I feel the wetness on my cheeks. I hang up and call his business phone.

I look at my father; he has tears in his eyes. “Dad, why is she lying?”

“I’m sorry, the number you are trying to reach has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel…” Who would disconnect his phone number?

“Sophia, princess…” he chokes, grabbing my hand as I am about to redial Will’s number. I look at him again; the heartbreak and pain is all I see in his eyes. And just like that, there is a flutter in my brain removing the veil of denial it was hiding under.

The memories invade my mind like a slideshow, each one more painful than the next.

The police at my door.

The morgue with his cold body.

The flowers. The grave.

I shut my eyes and cover my ears, trying to block out all the images and words. I fall to the ground, a sob breaking through. My heart shatters into a billion pieces. No! Will was my forever; he was supposed to grow old with me. He was not supposed to leave me behind.

I grab my chest; my lungs burn. I can’t breathe. I gasp for air.

“Sweetheart, breathe for us, for Will,” I hear my father whisper in pain. My lungs expand, instantly bringing air into them.

I look at him and he has tears running down his face matching my own.

“Sophia, tell me how to help you. It breaks my heart not being able to take this pain away.” I know he is hurting. I can see it, but no one is hurting more than I am. I know it’s selfish but I don’t seem to care.

Will was, is, my whole world. We were meant for each other.

And now all I feel is constant pain and deep coldness.

“Yes, Dr. Duarte, I understand. Well what did you want me to do? She was taking it too far with the whole baby nonsense. Yes. Okay. We will take her in. Thank you again. See you tomorrow,” I hear my mother on the phone.

“Daddy, why? The prince never died in any of the fairytales I read. The princess was the one that always befell into the dark magic. The prince always saved her. Who will save me?” I cry onto his chest, like I did so many times as a little girl. He gathers me into his arms, rocking me.

“There will be a new prince, baby girl. Maybe not now but later. But hey, maybe this time the king can save his daughter.” He half smiles.

My mother turns around, worry sketched on her aged face.

“Come, Sophia, let’s get you to bed. Hopefully a little nap can help you.” She walks toward where we are sitting on the floor, but before she can grab my arm to pick me up I flinch from her touch.

“Don’t touch, me!” I move away and stand up. “Why couldn’t you just let it be?” I see the hurt on her face as I blame her for my pain.

I run toward my room. I slow down when I get to the hallway and see all our pictures hanging on the wall, the memories we made over the years. Marking our journey together, every moment captured in a photograph. Just there mocking me of the life I will never have again. This is all that is left for our life together, stupid lifeless memories; I can’t stand them. His smile, his loving eyes, and his face. Reaching for them, I start yanking the pictures off the wall, throwing them to the floor, not caring if they break. I pull until not one is left, a mess of broken glass and torn images on the floor, just like my heart. Screaming at the top of my lungs, I try to lunge toward the mess.

“Para Sophia! Stop mija, don’t do this.” My mother grabs my arm before I fall. I push her away.

“Can’t you just leave me alone? I just want to be alone.” I run to my bedroom and slam my door closed. I just want everything to stop hurting. I want to be with Will. Rushing into the bathroom, I search for the pills that will help me erase all this pain, the ones that will help me find the quiet that I’m seeking. I grab my chest, my heart hurts too much. Swallowing a couple of pills, I grab our wedding photograph from the nightstand on my way to the bed. I hug it to me, waiting for the darkness to take over my concisions, so I can dream about this day; one of the best days of my life.

“Will.” I smile as the blackness takes me to the memories I desire.