Alan saw himself as the kind of man with no need for such petty things as morals. He faintly remembered having them once, not so long ago, but that was when he had been a different person.
His lost morality conjured up the face of his late wife. She had always symbolized the goodness he did not see in himself. He remembered her eyes, green and piercing. Those eyes always saw through him. She was the only one that saw him for who he truly was.
This fact annoyed him to no end when she was alive. Now that she was not around to keep him in check, he found himself aching for her honest and blunt way of telling him to do the right thing. His conscience had died with her, leaving him forlorn and bitter.
Though that part of him had faded into nonexistence with her passing, lately it had seemed to have resurfaced. Whenever he saw the look of pain in some poor soul's sad eyes, he felt a familiar emerald gaze looking back at him, making his heart heavy with guilt. He found himself occasionally helping someone with no regard for his own personal interests.
It was extremely out of character.
He played with the idea that maybe his wife had come back as his guardian angel, guiding and watching over him. Not that he had such religious beliefs.
Though, as he stared at his late wife's grave, his mouth twitched upward into a smile.
Maybe it wasn't so ludicrous after all.
He never saw the pair of luminescent green eyes watching him as he walked away or the soft laughter that faded moments after he left.