It was a beautiful summer day in Boston, so beautiful that the neighborhood children put down their video games and other electronic devices so they could play outside. For once, the air wasn't thick with humidity and their wasn't even a hint of rain on the way. At nearby cafes, couples were sitting outside with their iced coffees or teas and engaging in the inane conversations that only couples, particularly young couples, engage in. Parents were reunited with their children who had come home from college for the summer and were hanging on to every word they spoke about dorm life and surviving final exams with so much love and pride in their eyes. Guys were sailing with friends along the Charles River and girls were sunbathing near the water, hoping to catch the eyes of the young men in sailboats. Tourists were flocking in from all over the country to visit different historical sites and take tours of Harvard. At Fenway Park, the Red Sox were playing and people at the stadium and the surrounding sports bars were all clad in blue and red in support of the home team. It was a beautiful summer day in Boston and life was what was happening all over the city, but neither the season nor its beauty had any effect on Jane Rizzoli.

The curtains were closed to block out any natural light from entering the house and all of the lights were off except for a dimly lit corner of the living room illuminated only by a lamp. Jane laid on the couch and closed her eyes to prevent herself from looking around the living room any longer. As she tried to block out that day's events, Jo Friday hopped on the couch and she was grateful for some type of companionship although she knew Jo Friday wouldn't understand what Jane was going through, but when she started to whimper Jane wondered if that sound meant she really did understand. Jo Friday missed Maura and she definitely missed Bass. The little terrier often entertained herself by playfully barking at Bass and chasing the tortoise although she would give up when she became impatient with how slow Bass moved. Whenever that happened, she would find Jane and Maura who were usually cuddled up on the couch whenever they were home together and she would jump on one of their laps so she could be petted. This was the life Jo Friday knew and the life she loved; she and Bass were siblings and Jane and Maura were her parents, and the little terrier, like Jane, wished everything could go back to the way life used to be when Maura and Bass lived with them and the four of them were a loving (albeit unusual) little family.

Jane held her dog close to her and continued to close her eyes so as not to take in her surroundings. As irrational as it seemed, she tried to tell herself that if she closed her eyes, none of this could be real. Jane wanted to work, but she knew going to work also came with the risk of running into Maura and, as tough and focused as Jane could be, she was nowhere near emotionally ready to see Maura or accept the fact that Maura was no longer hers.

After waking up from an unexpected nap, the day's events had slipped Jane's mind and she glanced at her surroundings, immediately focusing on a photo of the two of them on their wedding day. It wasn't the dream wedding that either of them had planned and it wasn't even a wedding per se, but it was the day the two of them made a legal commitment to each other at a courthouse followed by dinner at an Italian restaurant in the North End with the Rizzoli family. The restaurant wasn't what Maura was used to, but it was a place the Rizzoli family had frequented for years and Maura couldn't help envisioning her wife as a little girl sitting at the very table they were currently sitting at.

Nearly two years had passed since that day, but so much had happened that it felt like a lifetime ago. Jane tried to hold back her tears as she remembered the interrogation she received that day from her mom. Jane and Maura had been married less than five hours and she was already asking them about grandchildren. They had Bass and Jo Friday, but a dog and a tortoise weren't exactly what Angela had in mind when she said she wanted grandchildren.

Jane grabbed her phone to check what time it was, but she immediately regretted it when she saw a picture of Maura as her wallpaper. It wasn't a seductive photo of her or even an attractive one by most people's standards, but the silly expression on Maura's face was something Jane felt extremely fortunate to be able to capture on camera. The picture was taken at Fenway Park and the expression on Maura's face was her reaction to being forced to wear an oversized Red Sox jersey and a cap. She knew her wife would prefer a more flattering garment if she was forced to wear Red Sox gear, but the fact that Maura was willing to step out of her comfort zone just so she could support her wife's team made Jane want to kiss her right then and there in front of everybody.

It was now seven in the evening and Jane wanted to order takeout, so she opted to order online instead of using her phone. It may have been overly dramatic, but she couldn't bring herself to look at her phone long enough to change the wallpaper. I'll buy a new phone, Jane told herself, but she knew buying a phone wasn't going to solve anything. She was sitting in a dimly lit living room in the house she owned with Maura and, even if she removed all of the photos she had of the two of them, the memories would always be there. As if on cue, Jane's eyes fixated on a diamond ring carelessly placed on the coffee table. It was Maura's wedding ring and seeing it served as the ultimate reminder of Maura's absence. Jane grabbed the ring and angrily threw it across the room. She wanted to scream Maura's name. She wanted to beg her to come back, but she knew it was no use. It was her fault that Maura had left her and, after what Jane had done, she knew it wouldn't be long before they were signing their divorce papers.

A/N: Sorry if this is a tad bit (okay, extremely) angsty, but it's something I've had in my head for awhile now. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed it. :)