Mish’s POV
Ten days.
No Wes, for ten days.
“Twenty one” I sigh to myself before kicking off the covers with a groan.
‘Training, training is first’ I think, my mental to-do list already scribbling into my mind before thinking of more possible options to add in.
Busy, I just need to keep busy.
As I get ready I walk and walk again past the pile of overflowing bags by the door.
The bags I dropped there ten days ago.
The bags filled with things I worked so hard to find, picked out so diligently, hoping Wes would love them too.
But then I walked in here. . . I walked into our bedroom and the fresh oak scent with a dash of home hit me like a brick wall.
I couldn’t change a thing.
Can’t change a thing, for risk of loosing this last remnant of him.
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