The early morning sun intruded into Adaline's living room, casting a spotlight on the numerous empty food containers and dirty clothes that littered the grey carpet. An aroma of two-day-old Chinese takeaway filled the air, but Adaline didn't notice; nor did she care.

Her home, once shown great care, had become something quite unrecognisable to her friends. Each had urged Adaline to seek help, had offered their own support. Offers of a deep clean, to cook a meal. Anything to help her out of the slump she found herself in. It all fell on deaf ears. Adaline couldn't imagine doing anything other than sitting alone in the solitude of her grief.

She'd loved no one like she had Christopher. From the instant they had met, she knew she would marry him. With his tall, muscular physique, piercing blue eyes, shaggy blonde hair and witty sense of humour, Christopher had brightened a room with such ease that often Adaline envied her husband. She had always been the quieter of the two; the figure hunched in the corner, silently observing and smiling at anyone who looked her way.

No, Christopher was what one might call the life of the party. And he never tired of Adaline, never questioned his love for her despite their vast differences. Often, he reminded her of the beauty he saw in her hazel eyes, told her how much he loved the coconut scent that embraced his nostrils when he held her close, her brunette curls draped over his chest.

Their marriage had been passionate and exciting. They'd spend hours laughing together before furiously ripping each other's clothing and kissing every inch of one another. The sex was great. More than great. It was excellent. Never had Adaline reached such climaxes until she met him. Just one look passed between them and they would both be excited for the other.

A deep sigh emerged from Adaline as she pulled a tall glass of water to her lips. She'd barely left her home since the news of her husband's death three weeks prior. It was as though a part of her had laid beside him in the pine coffin, entwined once more, hidden away from the rest of the world.

She'd spent the better part of a decade with Christopher in her life and couldn't understand how she was to now continue without him. Daily tasks seemed alien without his throaty laugh filling the house. His side of the bed untouched made the room feel cold and unwelcoming. She couldn't face sleeping alone in the bed they'd shared many nights, laughing and talking until the sun broke through with its cheerful dance displayed on the walls.

Sometimes, if she listened hard enough, Adaline could almost hear Christopher whispering her name from somewhere in the room she'd be standing in. She'd smile and answer, walking around the house in search of him before the cruel truth would punch her in the gut and the grief would become unbearable.

She'd spent the first few days still laying his work clothes out, making him coffees and dinner and reaching out a hand for him during the night. She hated the constant reminder that the person she loved had been so spitefully taken from her. A selfish drunk who thought a five-minute drive home from a night of celebrating would be fine. Five minutes that cost her an entire lifetime. The driver, some slim twenty something man who lived at home with his parents, was still walking free enjoying his life until the courts decided his sentencing. He was looking at fourteen years in prison with a two-year disqualification from driving for the crash he caused.

Fourteen years. Adaline had raged and sobbed to her best friend when she had found out. What was fourteen years compared to the life sentence Adaline and Christopher had received? In fourteen years, he would be free to live his life- free to start a family, buy a home, start a career. Anything he wanted. Everything that was no longer an option for the married couple. Adaline and Christopher had been desperately trying for a baby before the crash. Had spent many months lying awake discussing baby names.

Wondering who the child would look like, if they'd have their father's dimpled chin or their mother's cow's lick. Adaline had spent many moments cradled in Christopher's arms, sobbing at yet another single line. She had sobbed and begged to unseen entities to give them the child they longed for. Adaline hadn't just lost her husband that day. The stress and grief of the tragedy had caused her to miscarry the child she hadn't been able to tell Christopher she was expecting.

Adaline jumped as her mobile screamed to life with an incoming call. She glanced down, making no move to answer. An unknown number. Sighing again, she rose to her feet. If it's important, they'll leave a message, she told herself as she walked towards the kettle. The sound of the bubbles boiling silenced out the ringtone and vibration from the phone. The phone light dimmed as the kettle finished.

"Crap!" the mobile rang again, causing Adaline to spill boiling water onto herself. Rushing to the cold tap, she immersed her throbbing hand under the cold water. In annoyance, she watched the phone ring again. From the sink, she couldn't see the number of the person trying to contact her. Turning off the tap, she grabbed a towel and bandaged herself. Walking over to the dining table, she snatched her phone.

"What?" she snapped. There was a pause. Adaline could feel the anger reaching breaking point. Every little thing seemed to cause an unusual rage in her since Christopher. Before she could put the phone down, a soft, masculine voice spoke. She couldn't place where, but the voice seemed familiar to her.

"May I please speak to Mrs Jones, daughter of Mrs Banks?" the voice was full of sympathy. The same tone the police officers had used the day they had shown up on Adaline's doorstep, cap in hand and head lowered. She knew instantly the news wasn't to be good. Braced herself before the voice could speak any further. She sat down, holding the table for leverage, hands shaking as she did so.

"Speaking"

The voice let out a breath, calculating how to approach the topic of conversation. Adaline could feel herself becoming increasingly frustrated as the pause progressed. Why couldn't anyone just put her out of her misery? Just tell her what bad news awaited rather than leave her hanging to dry. Her nails clicked on the glass top to the table as she waited. Tap. Tap. Tap. She hated waiting. Hated not knowing. Hated people feeling sorry for her, as this person was doing. Whatever needed to be said, she wished the person would just say it. Rip the band-aid off and be on their way. Let Adaline deal with whatever it was in peace.

"I'm sorry. I'm calling on behalf of your mother. I'm one of her palliative carers. She's asked for you, wishes for you to come and visit her. If I may, I'd advise you to do so as soon as you possibly can. She doesn't have much longer – are you there Mrs Jones?"

Adaline stared ahead, unable to process what was happening. She didn't respond. The phone fell onto the floor, a tiny voice barely audible through the receiver. She stood up, almost falling over the chair as she does so. On unstable feet, she left the room, walked to the living room, and collapsed onto the sofa.

Palliative care. She knew what that was code for. End of life. Her mother was dying, and she didn't know. Why would her mum hide something like that from her? How long had she known? Did she know she was dying while she held her daughter at Christopher's funeral? Did she know three days ago when she turned up with the beef stew she knew Adaline loved?

She must have known. How could she not? So why hadn't she told her own daughter? Why drop the news on her now when it was too late for anything to be done? Adaline screamed, three weeks' worth of rage erupting from her, ready to burn anything in its path. Her mother was dying. Christopher was dead. Adaline was alone. Truly alone. The two people she loved the most in the world cruelly ripped away from her.

Adaline wasn't a religious person, had never attended church nor believed, yet she silently shouted at a God she had no faith in. Called him heartless and a bastard for shattering her life as he had.

She felt ashamed that she'd not noticed any changes in her mother until now. Until a stranger told her that her mother was to leave her alone in this world. She had put the shortness of breath and fatigue she'd noticed during her mother's visits down to the December chill. A seasonal cold, she'd convinced herself. Everyone gets it. Her mother was old. It seemed entirely plausible. She needed to know what illness was ripping her from her mother. Was determined to leave her in misery. She needed to know. Needed to be with her.

When the sobs turned into hiccups, Adaline pulled herself up. If her mother was dying, she needed to be there. Needed to stay until the very end. She couldn't turn her back on the person who had raised her single-handed her entire life.

No. She couldn't just sit here when her mother needed her. Packing light and in a complete daze, Adaline soon found herself in her car and driving towards North Yorkshire. It wasn't a long journey, a little over half an hour, but it felt like a lifetime before she pulled into her mother's drive.

The lights were on in the living room and she could see two shadows walking about, one every so slightly hunched forward. She knew instantly the hunched figure would be her mother and assumed the other shadow belonged to whoever had rung earlier.

Taking a deep breath, Adaline braced herself for the conversation she knew was to follow. There were so many questions. She stood, unable to move further, fixated on the front door. She couldn't bring herself to enter her childhood home to find her mother sick and dying. Holding her breath, she started to turn around, ready to run to her car and drive away from the Grim Reaper that seemed to enjoy taunting her.

The front door opened, and he stepped out, a black bag in each hand. He spotted Adaline and smiled, tossing the bags into the bins to the side of the door.

Adaline knew she had but two options before her. She could turn around and bury her head in the sand. Or she could step inside, hold her mother's hand until the very end.

No matter which path she took, Adaline knew the outcome would be the same. She would be left flailing alone in the world.

She just needed to take that step.