Yawn.
A dull ache plagues my back as I crawl out of the false comfort of my soft, warm sheets. A sharp ringing persists in my ears from all the wine I had last night. Memories of the piling workload haunt my tortured mind, and I turn to my lovely wife, sleeping soundly by my side. The delicate features of her back are turned towards me.
Smiling, I reach over for a kiss. Her cheeks feel cold against my lips. So I fold another layer of the sheets over her to keep her warm. A text message pings in from the nightstand.
I’m so sorry about your loss, Mr. Black. I know it’s taken me a week to reach out, but I just couldn’t bring myself to believe it. Your wife was an amazing person, and we will forever mourn her loss. Take the rest of the week off, Black. We’ve got you covered here at work.
A tear blurs my view as I sob in the dim morning light.
