He's been gone for 6 months today. Their villa in Milan is haunted by his presence, the smell of herbs he planted in the garden, painting and refinishing on the collonades left unfinished, his clothes hanging dark and clean and abandoned in the closet.
Friends visit and try to comfort her, but the loss has its own gravity, you can feel it in her presence. In another 6 months little has changed, she declines invitations for outings and the visits to see her decline gradually.
She dreams of him, his strong fine hands, his dark eyes, full of humor and gentle regard, his humming while he danced with her, enjoying the music.