It was colder the usual, he noted in the back of his mind.
He fixed his eyes on the newly set polished rock. The rain beat down on his bald head, but he cared not. It never acquired to him that she could die. Yes, everyone dies at one point or another, but not her. Not Rachel. His Rachel. She would always be his, as far as he was concerned.
He could feel the tears yet again weld in his blue eyes, but he blinked them away. He sat down in the wet grass at the end of the grave.
"You don't know what you've left me with, Woman." He said aloud, giving a half hearted smile.
"I didn't tell you you could leave me."
Pausing as if she would respond, he let out a small chuckle, pulling off his glasses. Moments of time replayed themselves in his mind. He recalled one night when the two of them had sat down and spoken of this. The night she was diagnosed with it.
Nigel's hands clamped over the grass underneath him. She was so worried about being bald. Nigel had to stifle a chuckle at the thought. She was always beautiful to him, regardless of her outward appearance. Never, Nigel thought, would they be apart.
He felt an ache in his chest, as the tears finally ran freely down his cheeks. He was there when she exhaled for the last time.
"This isn't good bye." Nigel told the rock.
"I'm not going to say good bye..."
They would see each other again, he knew. Yet that was not the reason he refused to leave her. He knew that when he left, it would be true. It would be reality that Rachel was dead. He shuttered and got to his feet.
"I'll visit." Nigel said again to the rock as he picked up the bundle of sun flowers. They were always her favorite. He gingerly sat them on the grass and stud straight, reading the words for the eighth time.
Here Lies Rachel McKenzie...
"I love you..." Whispered the man, and with that, he turned, wiping his tears with his sleve. He began to walk back to the parked car, only to find that two small children where behind him. Nigel sighed.
"I told you two to wait in the car...you'll catch a cold."
"Daddy...," The girl began, looking at her father with her deep blue eyes. He returned her gaze from over his glasses.
"Yes?"
"When is mommy going to come home?"