30 | Anniversary's

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3 years later

Adira Hawking

I found a sense of ease whenever I sat here. Thinking of it, though it was sinking, he was never wrong about that place. Venice was somewhere I pictured I was with him when things felt hard.

When it starts to hurt again I find myself on this beach. But a three year anniversary was big, bigger than the first and second. It was a beautiful and most painful anniversary, the day we said the first 'I do' and the last 'I love you'.

I still find myself screaming at night, at the ceiling after a dream. When my scars start to hurt when I'm anxious and how certain noises startle me. When I see someone who looks just like him and can't seem to focus for the rest of the day or even week.

He's been dead three years but still I feel him with me. That one day I'll wake up and he'll be right by my side, telling me he's sorry for being gone for so long. I still find myself waiting for the day my reoccurring dream comes true where he shows up and simply says "I came home."

But sometimes my delusions in dreams are too painful. So I find myself here in the mornings cooling off. I've lived here in the Algarve for one thousand and ninety three days. The beaches here in Portugal kept me at ease, but I missed the city some days. What my life used to be like.

Before I was released from a hospital bed and Stiles and Porter packed my bags and took me here. Where Rhys set up our safe house, away from everything. No ties to our names or bank accounts.

My name now Adelina Hawking, the one thing I was allowed to keep. My last name, one that was apparently fairly common in Europe. I couldn't believe I haven't felt his touch, seen his face or held him in three years.

My house didn't feel like home without him, because it was my house. Not our home, I felt lonely at points. Because we were meant to do this together, be here together. But I was here without him, living that dream without him. Sometimes that once dream felt like a nightmare.

But through this journey of grief, I learned it as a receipt of love. It shows that I loved well and I'm paying the price for it.

My feet leave the sand and I find myself walking back on the bare pavement. I smile as Mrs.Alves waved at me, she lived down the road from me. A sweet old lady who helped me out when I needed.

"I just saw Catherine, she took the fresh batch of biscuits I just made on her way out. But I have some in the oven that should be out in just a few" She owned the bakery down the road, her holiday pastries were the best. They helped me through my first few months here.

"I'll take you up on that offer another time, I have to go water the garden. I mean in this absurd heat, I'm grateful my flowers are even lasting" She nods in agreement, we were currently in a heatwave. I didn't know how she could be baking in temperatures like these.

I make it to the top of the hill and up the driveway. I loved my home, because even though it was painful without him. I made it my own with personal touches, it was my big distraction. Making it suited perfectly to me, it was project that I spent time on. But worth every minute with the love I built into this space. I wanted it to be a home, not somewhere I was forced to be.

Turning the knob, I see the mess of shoes infront of me from earlier today. I stepped out the backdoor in avoidance, forgetting about this morning where I was trying to find Lily's shoes, I always am only able to find one and not the other.

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