Three Glasses
Three glasses sat before him. One was filled with grape juice. The other two contained nineteen-ninety four Chardonnay. He took the glass close to him, raised it, and proposed a toast to the empty room. "To my darlings." His voice jarred the thick, sad silence. "To the lights of my life. I'm sorry. So sorry." Fighting back tears, he took a sip. It was her favorite, and the taste brought back an army of memories, each one piercing his heart. He took a deep breath, and downed the rest of the glass with one swallow. The glass of grape juice made him smile. Wouldn't she have felt so grownup with her fancy glass of grape juice at Christmas dinner? It was such a happy occasion, the smile never leaving any of their lips. Now it was just a bitter toast, two of the glasses never raised. He set his glass down, rested his head on the table, and let the nightmares in until morning.