Faint footsteps echoed in the hallway as you walked.
You slowly were getting used to the empty hallway. You made it this way after all.
It was all a horrible idea from the very beginning, you thought as you adjusted your black suit. Your husband hated it oh, so much...Yet it was the most fitting you could put on yourself. You readjusted a bow tying your hair up and opened the door. You didn't even squinted your eyes as bright light of the day outside hit your pupils. You just sighed and put on the sunglasses.
You just wanted the day to be over.
There was something very soothing about the funerals and you knew that when the ordeal was done, you would be able to rest. As people passed you, you were slowly realizing that their condolences didn't made it any better. You were dull on the inside. Almost as dull when they told you. Five years together suddenly meant nothing. And you knew you sacrificed them on your own will. You chose a role...You chose a calling over your future together. Your husband died solely because of your decisions and there was no going back.
You felt a single tear roll down your cheek as you walked back to your empty home.
Yet, you felt that you weren't alone when you opened the door.
It didn't mattered. The sun was starting to set and if there was anything willing to end you...it would go smooth.
You lived alone now, far away from civilisation and curious eyes of society. You poured yourself a drink. A glass filled to the brim with rum felt strangely cold in your grip yet there was something, oh, so very soothing about the burning liquor seeping down your throat. There was a noise outside but the liquor assured you it was nothing serious that needed your attention. And you were perfectly fine with that. You just sat there, in his favourite armchair, waiting for the presence to show itself or disappear.
You were an assassin, very silent and effective. Your weapon were poisons, so strong that one drop could get rid of most of your enemies. Your husband knew nothing about your occupation, he thought you worked for a perfume making company. But what sort of a perfume company murders their employee's spouse? Yeah...You emptied the glass and refilled it immediately.
No, you sighed and set the glass to rest on the table. It was not an assassination…It was an accident. He was not meant to be the target. You were the target. And the knowledge made you uneasy...but there was no turning back the time. Whoever was after you, got what they wanted.
They made you quit.