Memories stained like red wine spilled on a white rug. Memories of soft kisses, warm hugs, and contagious laughter.
She couldn't do it. She couldn't go to the funeral. It would mean saying goodbye. It would mean that he really wasn't coming back.
She ran her finger along the ring he had given her so long ago and ached for the comfort of his embrace. Wishing to see the fire in his eyes and hear the joy in his voice.
She was empty and cold, forever lost to her memories of the love she had lost and the piece of her that had gone with him.