Memories- FB-FWG based on the picture below. Drama- Triggers: Death, Suicide

I was careful not to spill my coffee as I slid the glass door open. I walked across the faded wooden deck, the creaking noise didn’t bother me, not even at this height. My husband, a carpenter, built it himself.

I leaned against the railing, steam rolled from my drink mixing with the mist in the air. I breathed heavily as I took in all God’s wonders. We came here at the start of every fall, never regretting spending our savings on a vacation home. 

I felt his arms slide around my waist. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He loved it as much as I. I could feel the heat on my neck as his words formed.

“Yes.” I whispered, still facing forward.

The chill taking a toll on the parts of me left bare, sent me quickly back inside. I turned to see if he was following – He wasn’t.

I curled up on the brown leather sofa, snuggled up with the multi-colored afghan my grandmother crocheted for us as a wedding gift nearly ten, not long enough years ago.

“Are you going to watch one of your beloved Rom-coms?” His muffled voice, coming from under the sink, probably fixing a pipe or something. He could do almost anything.

I chuckled as I hit play on the DVR. 

The weeks went by so fast, reminding me that life is but a vapor, unfortunately not the first time this year I was reminded of such.

I stacked the cardboard boxes neatly in the foyer, took one last look around, and tried to hold back the tears. I left the key under the door mat for the movers, the only difference was the ship to address. “Please donate to the nearest church. Your tip is in the envelope.”

I couldn’t do life without him.