Spencer sighed as she stared off into space. She knew the day was quickly approaching, tomorrow in fact; the two year anniversary of her and Ashley’s son’s death. Losing their child was hard enough, but losing Ashley added fuel to the fire. She didn’t want to lose her wife, but she couldn’t stand seeing her everyday. She just looked so much like Tate, that she couldn’t deal with it any longer. She offered to leave, it was Ashley’s house after all, but the brunette declined and before any discussion could pass between the two, Ashley had left. So now here she was, almost two years later, sitting on a couch in the house that they had both purchased together. Due to the extravagance of the house, it was mostly paid off by Ashley, but Spencer wouldn’t allow the brunette to pay for all of it, so she made her contributions when she could.

            Now Ashley was gone, but Spencer had somehow ended up with the house. And somehow, the blonde still has access to her wife’s bank account. Wife. Yes, Ashley was still technically her wife. They had never gotten a divorce due to the events that happened, and Spencer never found it necessary to go through with it. Never mind the fact that she would’ve never been able to sign the papers. She was still madly in love with the brunette, but the similarities between her wife and their son had been too much to handle. She wished she could have. She had vowed to stay with Ashley in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, but when the worse came, Spencer pulled away from her wife’s support and had practically begged Ashley to leave her.

            She should’ve just sucked it up. She should have been there to help support Ashley. There was another child lost for the brunette, and Spencer couldn’t begin to imagine what was going on within the other woman’s mind. And now she had no one to help her, to show her love, all because Spencer just couldn’t deal with everything. All the brunette had now was the drugs. Yes, she knew about the drugs. She had actually spotted the brunette one day while walking along the sidewalks of L.A. but didn’t have the courage to approach her wife. She had seen the track marks on her arm, she noticed how small and frail Ashley had become. The bags under her eyes were blaringly obvious, and when they had made eye contact for all of two seconds, Spencer saw the hollow look in the once happy brown eyes. That had been a month ago, but still the image was engraved in her mind.