Exactly five years had passed since the day I lost my husband. I still can\u2019t believe he\u2019s gone. It all happened so foolishly and suddenly that sometimes it feels like it was just a nightmare.That evening, it was pouring rain. The lights in the house flickered and then went out completely. He came back from the store with a bag of groceries, stepped onto the porch, and the tiles were wet and slippery. I heard a dull thud. When I ran outside, he was already lying unconscious on the steps. The ambulance arrived quickly, but the doctors said he had suffered a severe head injury from the fall. He died that same night.Everyone decided it was an accident. Rain, slippery steps, darkness. No one suspected anything.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The first few years after his death, I lived like I was on autopilot. I woke up, pretended everything was normal, and went back to sleep with a hollow feeling inside. The only thing I kept like a relic was a small yellow flower he had planted for me in a white pot. I placed it in the garden by the walkway and cared for it as if my memory depended on it.That day was warm and quiet. I decided to repot the flower with fresh soil. I picked up the pot, but it slipped from my hands and shattered against the tile. The soil scattered across the path. I knelt down to gather it with my hands and suddenly noticed something pale deep inside.A small bundle of fabric, neatly tied with a thin black thread.My heart pounded so hard that my ears rang. My husband had given me that pot shortly before he died. I was sure I knew him completely. He never hid anything from me. Or so I thought.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
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