T'was my selection yesterday:
It’d been 6 hours and twenty-two minutes since he died. My heart had measured every beat since our connection had been broken.
The doctors I spoke to had no idea why an otherwise healthy thirty-three-year-old man suddenly dropped dead. I’d taken the first flight I could back to the city we lived in, cutting my business trip short, but it wasn’t soon enough.
I had no idea what I was going to do with my life. As the plane touched down, I twisted the ring on my finger, rolling the word widow around in my mouth.