Coming Back to You ✔

37. July

Sophia's keys clicked the lock back and then pushed open the door to her dark apartment. Her ears rang from the fireworks show, and with a pounding heart, she flipped on the lights, reassuring herself that no one had gotten in.

After redoing all of the locks, Sophia fell on the IKEA couch, still too stiff to be considered homey. New York City was never really silent, but her breath was the only sound in her ears, the only sound breaking through the stillness of the empty apartment.

Empty.

It wasn't just the fact that no one else was there that made Sophia feel so alone. It was the absence of anything that would make the apartment feel like hers. There were no signs of who she was; there were no signs of him, either.

"Shit, okay." She stood up, wiping at her eyes. "That's enough."

Sophia showered and got ready for bed and dug through her dresser to find a clean pair of pajamas. But just as she finished and was ready to fall into bed, something caught the corner of her eye.

Bad idea. She hadn't taken it out since she first got to the city and unpacked.

With trembling hands, Sophia lifted her L.A.F.D. shirt out from under the pile of clothing she hid it under. The material was as soft as she remembered, thinned out in several places from years of wear, but it was also the only thing she had that made her actually feel like she was at home.

Sophia pressed the shirt to her face and then stifled a sob. Except, after two months, she couldn't hold back those sobs anymore. Especially not now. She could always pick up a hint of Dean's scent on the shirt, no matter how many times she wore and washed it. But now, nothing. The shirt was still there, but Dean was gone.

The floodgates opened and Sophia couldn't take in air. She sank to the floor, clutching the shirt to her chest as she gasped for breath, dry heaving and feeling her tear reserve finally breaking free. Hot streams ran down her face as she began to hyperventilate.

She didn't want this. She didn't want to have fun watching fireworks with her new coworkers and joke around with FDNY members. She didn't want to be enjoying any of this. She just wanted things to go back to the way they were.

The geyser of emotion continued to unravel her until she was laying on the floor, curling up, the shirt in her vicelike grip. While her breathing eventually came under control, that only made way for sob after sob to wrack through her body. She shook with every breath, clenching into a tighter and tighter ball.

She missed Dean so much it physically hurt. Hell, she missed everyone so much it hurt: Raina, Alicia, May, Matteo, and Dean's crew. And that pain had built up over the months now hit her all at once, so much that she couldn't even function.

No one was coming to help her. If Dean were here, he would pull her into his arms and hold her, letting her clutch his shirt and sob and drool into the fabric for as long as she needed. He would rub her back and kiss her hair, not saying anything but just being the steady force that she needed.

But Dean wasn't there, and even imagining his arms around her made the hole in Sophia's soul rip open wider. She let out a strangled scream, trying to vent some of the raw emotion surging like a tsunami through her body.

Almost instantaneously, a knock on the door. "Sophia?" Jamie called out. "Is everything okay?"

But Sophia couldn't reply. Every time she tried to speak, the words stuck in her throat and another ugly sob came out.