"I suppose I'm used to it now." She admitted, and yes she knows its a weird story. "Most of my life, I've spent without him. Even as his wife, I didn't travel with him, not always, and not for long periods of time. He'd pop in and out of my life, and sometimes I'd pop in and out of his."

For some of it she'd been in prison for killing him, which was even odder than how they'd met.

"I miss him, but until just before I came here I wasn't used to having him there every day. Not even most days. I have his picture and I have my memories." Her hand flattened on the diary and when she smiled it went all the way to her eyes so he would know she wasn't lying.

"Most of the time it's enough. And on those rare occasions when it isn't, I usually do something outrageous to take my mind off the missing."