~Elena's POV~
The rain hammered against the windows of Elena's suburban home, a relentless drumbeat that mirrored the ache in her chest.
It had been three years since the accident...three long, hollow years since her husband, Mark, was ripped away in that crumpled car on the interstate. At 35, Elena still looked like the vibrant woman he'd married: long auburn hair that fell in waves to her shoulders, green eyes that held a quiet storm, and a body that time hadn't softened...curves honed by yoga and grief-fueled runs, full C-cup breasts that strained against her fitted sweaters, a narrow waist flaring to hips that swayed with an unconscious grace.
But inside, she was a ghost, haunting the life they'd built together.
The house felt too big now, echoes of laughter and love bouncing off
