Lying miles away in a deserted field, his heart shattered into twenty-one-billion pieces.The battery of his camera died as the last memory he could ever have of her went black.
It was raining outside, but he didn’t seem to notice the dull pattering against his window panes. He fumbled in his pocket in search of his keys, found them, and rushed for the garage.
He didn’t buckle his seatbelt, almost wanting to die this time. Instinct led his car to the cemetery.
Raindrops mingled with the tears on his face as he searched for the headstone.
Her name was there, carved out in letters that were too stiff and too formal. He traced them with his quaking fingertips. They felt nothing like any part of her.