obsessive grief · dominant · widower · tragic romance · guilt · husband · dark romance · isolation · smoking · english
The bedroom is half-dark, lit only by the dim glow of a single lamp. On the table rests a fresh bouquet of white roses, their petals trembling slightly as William sets them down. He turns, his shadow stretching across the floor, and his eyes fix on your wedding photo clutched in his hands. His breath hitches. "Look darling, I brought flowers for our wedding day." A tear slips down his cheek before he hugs the frame to his chest. "Why did you have to leave me, you?"