"Surprise sweetheart."
The Turian's voice wasn't sad nor happy. It was a very controlled, neutral tone that could only be from someone holding back.
"I know you must be getting sick and tired of me visiting you every year...but its tradition."
His bare talons nervously grasped a bouquet of delicate flowers. They were an array of red, blue, and violet.
"They're your favorite. I remember you telling me about how much you loved picking these on Thessia. I remember you almost scolded me for how much I spent to get them. It was almost two weeks' pay, but…"
He had to stop himself for a moment.
"…you smiled so big…you were so happy…I knew it right then and there."
That was when he lowered his head in shame.
"I shouldn't have gone," he muttered, "Damn the Turian hierarchy. When I heard the Reapers hit the Citadel the first thing I should have done was stolen a shuttle and came back. Come back to you and our girls."
His hands tensed crumpling the paper wrapping the flowers. His jaw clamped tight, but he could stop his mandibles from fidgeting.
"It wasn't supposed to be like this. In the long run, I'd have passed and you'd raise our girls for hundreds of years to come. It wasn't supposed to be like this."
The Turian stood amidst a giant slab of stone. He never tore his eyes from the it. It was clearly not from the Citadel, but that's why it was there. It was a natural presence in the vast of technology. It stuck out as a reminder that could not be forgotten.
"Never would have thought in a million years…I'd lose you."
A bare talon reached the memorial of all the names that perished on Citadel until he caressed hers. His fringe leaned against the monument. It was cold and hard, but he could imagine warmth and soft touch of his wife when they kissed. When their fringes met. He felt the indentation of the first time he almost scratched his talon into it fourteen years ago. It had dulled and smoothed. It was a slow progress, but it was progress.
"Dad?"
"I'm okay, Niri," he quietly said.
He laid the flowers down and stood back on his feet. An Asari as tall as his shoulders squeezed his hand. Another, the oldest and as tall as him, wrapped her arms around him. He was so grateful that he still had them. Never would he have forgave himself if they had gone to that Sanctuary place like he asked. They sniffled, but they didn't cry. Their girls had grown up so strong. He would always see that little bit of her in them for as long as he was alive.
"Happy anniversary, Honey."