Chapter 67

Diego

My mornings started before the sun did these days, not because I had anywhere to be, but because sleep no longer visited me at night.

My body would shut down for a few hours, but my mind kept turning over things. I would be restless all night, stir and toss in bed sometime till around four, stare at the ceiling for a while, and then pull myself up and start the motions of being alive: light the gas, boil water, open the window, and stare down at the cup of coffee I had just made.

The house didn’t hum anymore, unlike before. I missed them, the family we had and the warmth we shared. I had gotten so used to it—every man should have—and I did not have any idea what life was going to be without her presence.

When she was here, my wife, with her soft music in the kitchen and her voice bouncing through the hallway, her meals, her laughter, the glint and sparkle in her eyes and the banter we all shared: myself, her, and Isabella. But now, the rooms just