Look, I know this may not seem like the height of cutting loose to you, but for me, it’s kind of a big deal. For the next few hours, with the place to myself, I get to belch as loud as I want. I can swear at the television as loud as I please (and it’s the Cubs, so it will happen frequently), and best of all, I can fast-forward through the commercials and the pitching changes. This is the most ‘at home’ I’ve felt since we moved in.

I’m halfway through my second beer, sitting forward on the couch as the Cardinals mount a rally in the top of the ninth. Bases loaded, one out, and the Cubs are clinging to a one-run lead. The Cardinals batter slaps one on the ground towards the hole between short and third. I curse because it’s going into the outfield, but at the last moment, the shortstop snags it, pivots, and throws to second. The second baseman bare hands it, drags his foot across the base, and fires to first. The ball pops into the first baseman’s glove a fraction of a second before the runner reaches the bag. Double play. Game over. Cubs win.

I jump off the couch and yell in triumph, because I clearly had something to do with this victory, even though the game was played earlier this afternoon.

This has officially been a good day.

I finish my beer and head upstairs to my room, pausing outside Caitlyn’s door.

It feels strange for her room to be so dark. I can’t tell you why, maybe it’s the slight buzz I have going from the beer, but I quickly step inside, reach down, and flip on the night-light before walking down the hall to my own room.

I change into some pajama pants and a tee-shirt. While scrubbing my face and brushing my teeth in the bathroom, I start making plans for tomorrow. Let’s shoot for three chapters. It’s an ambitious goal but in my current mood, I’m confident that I can get it done.

I hit the light, step out of the bathroom, and climb into bed, taking up my customary side.

The moon is visible through the window. The silvery light cuts sharp angles across the fireplace.

It’s unbelievably quiet.

How long should I wait before asking Denise to grab dinner again? Not romantically. That’s not what I’m looking for. It was just such a great night, and it’s been a while since one of those and I wouldn’t mind doing it again in the not-too-distant future.

I sigh, roll onto my side, and see Nicole.

She’s there, in the bed, lying next to me. Her body is shattered. Blood runs down her face and seeps into the bed. Her open, lifeless eyes stare blankly ahead.