“But it can’t be.”
The words seemed to hover in the air, slowly fading away.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They had never meant for things to end this way.
So this, this was where it all led? All the promises, all the dreams and their hopes?
But she said she would be here, he thought. She promised. His predicament did not allow him to see, but at least he’d have heard her voice. That cheerful tone. Did she forget or had she given up? But she would never forget. That could only mean one thing. They were history.
He knelt down, and his hands touched concrete. He let the flowers lie in their wake. Then he turned around, vowing never to look for her again. His walking stick guided him out of there. Out of the graveyard.
He had just fulfilled her last wish. He had left her flowers at her grave.