Luke Cahill stood by the open window, gazing at the flaming sunset outside. He sat down on the window sill, breathing in the fresh air. For a moment he felt like jumping. Who would care? He had no family, not really. His wife and children would inherit his fortune, he had no one else to give it to, they might even be happy. No one would care if bitter old Luke Cahill died.
He sighed and closed his eyes, the events of the day washing over him like a giant wave.
Luke had been in a fight with his wife. It had all started when a man at the market was rude to her. She had expected Luke to defend her, to yell at the rude merchant. But Luke didn't believe in fighting other people's battles.
When they got home she had been mad. "Luke Cahill you are horrible and heartless. You never defend me or come to my aid! I bet you dont even care!Do you even love me? Have you ever really loved or cared about anything? Anyone?" she yelled, her face red with anger.
Luke just sat there, shocked. When he didn't respond his wife threw down the groceries she was holding and stormed out of the house.
The truth was Luke didn't know. Sure, he cared, she was his wife, he had to care. But love? Love was a very strong word, love was powerful. Love was a word Luke used to use for his favorite color. For warm summer days and loving parents. Love was a word Luke used to use for nice things and paint covered little sisters running around the yard.
Sitting there on the window sill, watching the day turn to night he realized the day the fire burned down his childhood home Luke had forgotten how to love.
Luke Cahill sat there on the window sill, and for a moment he felt like jumping.
-l-
A/N: This is my first 39 clues one shot/ Drabble thing. Tell me what you think. Love it? Hate it (hopefully not, but if you do that's okay too I guess) ? Review! :)