Footprints in the Sand

It was Christmas Eve, and deep depression was clouding his mind. He’d been going through this depression phase, as the holiday season approached, for the past four years. This year would mark the beginning of the fifth year and already he was not able to eat or sleep. He knew Nicola would not like it if she was here, but the problem was she was not. She drowned almost five years ago to the day, while they were out on their yacht. They were celebrating their fourth anniversary as a married couple. They had fallen asleep after a night of celebrating. Sometime in the middle of the night, the weather turned unexpectedly nasty with winds over 80 miles an hour.
To this day, he didn’t know what woke him, but one minute he was asleep beside his wife, and the next he woke to the yacht being tossed about like a toy as it was thrown off course. After that night, he never saw his wife again. Since then, at Christmas, more than any other time, he felt her presence with him, but alas, it was always like a fleeting memory. Today, the fifth anniversary of her death, he woke from a dream feeling her presence stronger than ever. It was as if she was in the room with him. It was so strong he reached over to bring her into the warmth of his body, as he used to do, but there was nothing but empty space. Getting out of bed, he changed and went down to the beach—the same beach where his yacht had washed up five years ago.
As he broke into to run, he felt someone running beside him. He slowed down to look around, and was just in time to see two footsteps in the sand, alongside his, but before he could take a second look the waves came up and washed it away.