1 Primo, per durare. (First, to last)

"I'm sorry, you know I'm just worried."

He looks at me with amusement in his eyes. "Babe, it's one week. I'll be back before you even realize I'm gone."

He takes my hand and intertwines our fingers, his golden wedding band glints in the light of the setting sun as he brings the back of my hand up to his lips, kissing it endearingly.

I find myself having trouble keeping my eyes on the road. This sweet side of him has always calmed the underlying beast inside me that doctors love to call anxiety.

"I know, I just don't like being away from you."

He smirks, his plump rosy lips parting slightly, "You know what I'm going to miss?"

I briefly look him in the eyes and slightly laugh, "What? Sphinx?"

With the mention of our beloved house cat, he cracks a full-blown smile and joins me laughing. "Of course, she's the only woman for me."

At this, I roll my eyes. He has always had an innate infatuation with our dear Sphinx. I often find them cuddling in odd areas of our home.

"I swear that cat gets more affection than I do."

He proceeds to act as if I have wounded him and replaces my hand with the inside of my right thigh. "Oh, stop over exaggerating."

I shake my head, focusing my eyes onto the road once again; I had driven him and I forty-five minutes towards the airport, and we were currently about to miss our exit.

"Shit!" I quickly hit the gas to beat the semi on my right to the airport's exit.

He lets go of my thigh and reaches for the stability handle.

He has never quite loved the way that I drive.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Quickly hitting and surpassing the speed limit, I cut off the innocent semi and barely make it onto the off-ramp.

With a slight shake to his voice, he takes this moment to chime in, "You know, I always thought that I would get used to your horrible driving."

I take this opportunity to shut down the building sarcasm that he seemingly possesses, "Can it."

When we pull up to the airport, we reluctantly take our time attempting to find the closest parking spot to his boarding gate.

We unload his luggage and start walking towards the doors of the airport, he takes my hand in his and smiles softly.

"I am going to miss you." I blush and briefly glance up at the sound of his words.

At my shyness, he takes a step in front of me, stopping me in my tracks. He lifts my chin with his free hand and bends down to kiss me slowly.

These are the kinds of kisses that I live for. Pure, sweet, and soft. As we part, his messy blonde hair slightly blows in the wind, covering his ice-blue eyes.

The first day that I met him, I would've never thought that I would be kissing this man in an airport parking lot.

I take this time to follow the sharp lines down the shoulders of his freshly dry cleaned suit. This has always been my favorite look for him.

I smile up at him, "I love you."

He drops his luggage and pulls me close, tucking his face into my hair. "I love you too, Em, so much baby."

Getting my emotions together, I release my tight hold on his broad frame and focus on the task at hand. "Come on, we can't have you missing your flight."

As I get a head start walking towards the door, he comes up behind me and swats my butt. "Race me!"

I quickly wipe the shock off of my face and start sprinting after his silhouette. I immediately get left behind and lose his form altogether.

I start to panic and call out.

I yell his name into the sea of people, random heads whipping around to watch a distressed stranger call for her loved one.

Hundreds of eyes looking over the small woman running in the airport.

I scream his name more desperately than before. I can't help this feeling that he is gone forever. I start quietly sobbing and collapse to the floor of the airport. People briskly walking on either side of me, as if they couldn't hear my struggle, as if they didn't care.

That's when I faintly hear him.

"Em!"

I wipe the tears from my eyes and start to stand, looking for him.

"Em!"

His voice starts to get louder.

"Em!"

I can hear him screaming my name. I start to run towards him, against the constant stream of airline passengers, my body viciously getting shoved around.

"Em!"

"Em! Wake up!"

I stop in my tracts; people still shoving me back and forth.

"Em! Fucking wake up, would you?"

I open my eyes and instinctively sit up, sweaty and out of breath with tears running down my face.

"Abby? what happened?"

My best friend looks extremely worried as she stops shaking my body and slowly sits down, looking me in the eyes.

"Don't act like you don't know, Em." I instantly feel ashamed; I knew exactly what happened. It's been the same routine for three months.

"You were yelling his name."

I start to gather the sheets and push them aside, instantly looking for something to distract my mind. I smell my shirt and decide that I need a shower.

"Thanks, Abb, for waking me."

Abby's concerned expression turns into a stern, motherly expression. "Em, you need to talk."

I gather fresh clothes from my dresser and start to head to the bathroom. Abby swiftly stands and blocks the entrance to the attached bathroom.

"Em, I'm serious."

I sigh as I contemplate another excuse to avoid therapy.

"It's been three months; you haven't even spread his ashes yet."

At this statement, I immediately become defensive. "I'm not ready. Do you think I expected this to happen? For him to be gone, so soon. No--" I start to get choked up and breathe deep to calm myself, "He didn't deserve this."

Abby relinquishes her position in front of the bathroom door and forces words through the hurt that starts to show on her face.

"You can't even say his name." She starts to pace and talk with more heated words. "Do you honestly think he would want this for you? Want you to wait around for months wondering if he is still around?"

She stops in her tracks and takes both of my shoulders into her hands. "Em, you've barely eaten anything since he passed." She motions to my thin frame.

"You need to get out, go see your parents, you haven't seen them at all since the service." She heads into the bathroom and picks up the toothbrush that I haven't used in an uncountable number of days.

"Take another month, go home. I'm sure your parents are worried sick." Abby hands me my toothbrush and hugs me tightly.

"Go refresh; you're going to get gum disease." With that final statement, she leaves our, well, as of three months ago, my bedroom.

I fight the urge to break down, which is now a routine for me, and make my way into our bathroom, sorry, my bathroom. As I wait for the shower to heat up, I brush my teeth until my gums bleed, floss, and test the now scalding water.

Without a second thought, I strip his filthy t-shirt and boxers off and hop into the hellish shower. For many minutes I sit and soak in pain to distract my mind. When I finally reach for the soap, I put a dollop in my hand and raise it towards my scalp, as I start to wash my hair, I close my eyes.

I can feel his hands in my hair as we lay in bed. Large, rough hands playing with my hair mindlessly as we talk for hours on end.

His charming smile, framed by the most beautiful jaw that one could possess, fit his face perfectly. As I finish rinsing my hair, I plop body wash into my hand and I close my eyes again. I can feel the warmth of his hands around my waist and my hips.

I move my hands over my breasts and his follow. I start to envision him in front of me. I begin to gain hope. When I open my eyes, that hope instantly fades.

As the water in the shower starts to grow colder; I take that as my cue to rinse off and get out, instinctively drying myself off.

As I wrap the towel around myself, I look into the mirror at the sunken cheeks and baggy eyes of the woman looking back at me. I could see every angle of her collar bone, her elbows and knees were knobby and I could already tell that her hip bones were more prominent than ever without even looking.

I don't know this green-eyed woman, how could she let herself look such a mess. Her pale skin looks as if the slightest scrape could break it open any moment.

I finally break eye contact with the stranger in front of me and start to put on undergarments and the, now baggy, black skinny jeans that have been sitting in my dresser for months.

I quickly layer on a baggy t-shirt, topping it with a sweatshirt, and start to rip through the inky black tendrils of thick hair that my scalp contains.

I walk back into my bedroom and grab his brown leather suitcase out from under our bed.... My bed, and start to transfer all of my clothes, which mostly consisted of black skinny jeans, tights, and baggy sweatshirts.

I pause as I open one of the dresser drawers that contain his clothes. I grab his black leather jacket and hold it up to my nose. I inhale deeply and gently fold it and place it in his suitcase. I also grab a couple of his T-shirts.

I go into the closet and grab a Sunday dress and pull one of his black dress shirts and place it in his suitcase.

I pack the rest of my necessities and slip on my converse. I stop by the dresser one last time and look at the hern that holds the contents of my love.

I pick up the hern and decide to take it with me.

I walk downstairs into the kitchen, throw on my leather jacket and pull a barstool up next to the fridge, I reach up and grab the cookie jar that sat atop it and stick my hand in to take the wad of cash out and place it into my pocket.

I grab the keys to the Harley and my pack of cigarettes. As I walk out into the garage, I hear a slight meow. It was begging me not to leave. I spin around in regret and instantly bend down to pet poor Sphinx. Out of everyone that loved my husband, Sphinx was taking the loss just as hard as anyone. I pick her up, cooing and awwing, trying to apologize for almost forgetting her. "I love you little fur ball", I say as Sphinx meows back.

I finishing cutting off ties with our.....sorry, my beloved cat and I walk out into the garage and start to strap the suitcase and hern in questionable places. Once I am satisfied with my handy work, I open the large garage doors.

Abby comes running into the garage and catches me, swinging my leg over the large motorcycle.

She walks up to me and puts her hand on her hip. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

I start to walk the bike backward with my feet."Getting out of here."

Abby walks up to the garage workshop table and takes ahold of my helmet.

I make eye contact with her while I kick start the Harley, we like to call her Betty. As expected, she purrs like a kitten.

Abby starts to walk towards me with my helmet and I shake my head, speaking a little louder than usual due to my metal stead, "Nope, not happening."

Abby starts to walk towards me faster, "You need to be safe."

I scoff, "What for?"

She slows down to a standstill. "What do you mean?"

"Abby, I don't need it, take care of Sphinx and the house for me, I'll try to be back next month," I say my farewell as I shift the bike into first gear and I head towards home.