Ashton:
I woke up to the sunlight streaming through the window, but something felt off—Adrianna wasn’t next to me. The bed was cold where she should have been, and the faint sound of something sizzling in the kitchen drifted upstairs.
I sat up, running a hand through my hair, and glanced around the room. Adrianna’s room. My wife’s room. It still felt surreal. The walls were filled with personality—photos of her family, sketches she must have drawn herself, and stacks of books on every available surface. It was messy, lived-in, and full of her warmth.
A small smile tugged at my lips as I stood and stretched, the events of yesterday flooding back. I was married. To her. The one woman who had been in my heart all these years.
Pulling on a t-shirt, I made my way downstairs, the smell
