Ghost

Chapter One Hundred Seventy Eight

    I can't get myself to grab our favorite snacks, load up with some drinks and sit down to enjoy.. anything, without her.

   I have to steal myself before I can even enter the room.

   The whole house is haunted by her. Everywhere I look and go I see her there. I think of why she loved that area of the house. Or why she picked the color paint for that room. Or how she built the coffee table or shelves or..

   So to go into this room..

   It's a lot.

   It all is.

   I take a deep breath and hold it, pushing the door open on a spike of confidence.

   Well, it looks the same.

   It still smells the same; like popcorn.

   The screen is still waiting to be used.

   The movies in alphabetical order as Spencer had to have them.

   The chairs are in the same place, one in the reclined position. Spencers spot.

   But nothing is the same. Not really.

   It never will be.

   I take another deep breath and walk over to the chair. I can't put it back to the sitting position.. I just want to be where she loved to be.

   As I walk over there, my foot connects with something, stopping me in my tracks.

   I look down to see something black sticking out from under the chair.

   So I bend down to inspect further.

   I pull it out.

   There's two of them.

   It's her boots..

   And..

   It's something so small.

   Just some footwear.

   Just a pair of black boots.

   But they're not.

   I gave them to her for her birthday. She wore them all of the time. As we stood on the alter and vowed for the rest of our lives..

   These were Spencer.

   Something comfortable and simple and useful and stylish.

   Something she would have worn until the sole was worn through because she wouldn't buy another pair for herself unless I did for her. Because she loved that they were from me.

   And suddenly..

   It's too much.

   I feel like I'm holding her in my arms but I never will again.

   This.. these boots. These are as close to her as I will ever get.

   And I'm pissed.

   I'm pissed that she's gone. That I have to try to live without her. That I don't get to be an old wife with her. That we don't get to raise our kids together.

   I'm pissed.

   I'm so damn pissed that the pain and loss is overwhelming me and I break down.

   I collapse on the ground, clutching her boots as my eyes unleash water like a broken faucet.

   And I stay there.