Your wife is smiling.

There are whispers of tears clinging to her eyelashes as she rambles. She has been for a while, standing in the same place since this morning. You should know. It's in front of your grave.

A faint drizzle scatters down upon her crisp umbrella. Miniscule raindrops plink off the fresh acrylic coating as her uncallused hands twirl the handle every so often, alternating this with her other nervous habit.

Fiddling with the ring you gave her.

"Oh Jack…"

I loathe admitting it, but it's a gorgeous, little thing. 18 karats fixed up with a row glimmering diamonds on her pale finger, right next to the white-gold wedding band. I'm sure you got something cute and heartbreakingly romantic etched gracefully on the inside. And if you didn't, you should've. She deserves nothing less, if not more.

She is clucking her tongue amusedly, as one would to a small child, trying to distract herself from the loss of you.

"You and your work. Your work and you. You and that stupid, stupid farm."

Her left hand fingers are busy twisting the gem-adorned trinket, so loyally relocated to her right ring finger.

"…I can't see why you loved it so much. Growing itty-bitty seedlings and whatnot. Wallowing in the dirt under that aching, August sun. Always running around with the constant threat of another failed crop. I guess you were made for this kind of work. I remember how large your hands were; they always eclipsed mine. You always gave me grief for my tiny fingers. Well, I'm giving you grief right back. Your wedding band keeps falling off. I just about lost it the other day…"

A breeze stirs the pooling mist off the trees, along with a few crumpled leaves. Each withered crisp struggles against leaving their last 8 months of existence, but some give out. They drift downwards to an indefinite future, terrifyingly unknown. Flittering peacefully, some settle on a shallow puddle, joining a myriad of gentle ripples. I wish I could say our departure was that easy.

"…It's around the cusp of fall right now, if you can't tell. Y'know, the changing from one star scribble to another. About time for the transition of Scorpio to Sagittarius, I suppose…yeah. You should have a great view from where you are, no?"

The wind is picking up, twirling those departed leaves in a serene dance, seemingly surreal. The faintest of sensations grazes what little skin I leave exposed: a minute barrage of spray, so unfeelingly bitter, lasting for only fractions of a second yet echoing endlessly. I shift my sleeves further forward over my hands.

"…The last of your precious plants died the other day. I'm sorry to report that I had to sell your final few cows to that other ranch down the road. The owner seemed like such a senile scatterbrain, but I'm sure they're under a more competent jurisdiction now. With winter setting in, you've left me at a loss…"

She switches from fidgeting with her fingers to revolving her parasol.

"…and he was right. Your farm was such a labor of love that you worked yourself to death. After running it for so long, I thought you knew to drink more often during the summer months…"

Her umbrella, pirouetting just moments before, suddenly stops.

"…Jack?" She isn't looking at your headstone anymore. Curtains of limp, greasy hair obscure her face as she hangs her head down. Her voice is little more than a shameful tremble.

"I'm sorry."

Of all people to- No! You should be the one apologizing to her for leaving her so stupidly!

"I'm so selfish. I'm disgusted at myself. I can hardly live with the reasons for moving here."

No, no, no! Look at what you've done to her! Look at what you've left! Look at the misery you've caused her you despicable, slimy abomination against-

"I-it was all just a marriage of convenience, right?"

…no.

"Set up by our parents so long ago. A fallback."

-hush, darling. Don't say that.

"I mean, look at how we were: me, unemployed and an inch off the streets and you, almost broke and flirting with bankruptcy at every turn. We needed that money. We needed your parents' support."

Please, stop talking! You'll be okay!

"How can I live with myself knowing why I'm here?"

I'll help you! We can get over it!

"And the worst thing is, I came to like you."

Lies, darling! Please, nothing but lies! Lies!

"You-you were like my best friend from high school. Ironic how she is dead too. Died a year after we graduated from high school. Drunken car crash freshman year of college. I never told you."

People change! People forget! We can heal, I swear we can heal!

"I couldn't believe how close we became."

He lied! He lied. He had to of lied. How could he have loved you? Please-

"You were so nice. You never tried to force anything on me. We were closer than lovers. Mutual partners."

…just…stop…talking…

"I just can't believe you're gone."

…darling.

"Jeez Jack, you've sure turned this into an eventful year for me, haven't you? Married in March and widowed by August. Some marriages wait years before anything like this happens…" She is chuckling, more like a thinly veiled attempt at bouncing back.

I'm breaking every rule I've come to preach just by standing by this woman. Lust, envy, adultery…I'd do anything for her now.

Unlike you.

Her cracked laughter inadvertently lets slip an insignificant hiccup, and suddenly her façade shatters. Not a blink later and her make-up is running, thick and goopy, mixing with the snot and salty grime on her face. Every muscle of hers is clogging up with unadulterated grief. Sucking back sobs, she is shaking helplessly.

I'm moving closer to her, providing the comfort that you cannot because she is weeping hopelessly over your death. She is looking at me, terrified as she realizes that I've been there this whole time.

I hope you're seeing this. Your pretty Claire a horrendous, miserable mess.

"Come inside, my child. Please, get out of this weather. It'll do you no good if you catch a cold." My hand moves to her shoulder, for that is all I can offer your married woman.

She let loose a strangled, half-choked breath.

"Thank-you F-father Carter. B-but I'm okay." Pitifully, I saw the broken shards of her happiness piecing themselves together morbidly into a tortured mask of I'm okay.

She always succeeds in breaking my heart.

Minutes pass and she is looking futilely at your headstone for finality. With my presence known though, she is silent. I'm watching over her as she continues standing. Unlike you, I refuse to leave her. The rain above is gaining momentum. Feeding off a second wind, the pounding reflects the tragedy of it all. Loving a woman you cannot have. Missing a man you hardly knew. Craving closure in a wake of confusion. Her numbed fingers move mindlessly in tragic circles as she mourns.

You left her twisting the ring on her finger.

A.N. I found this on my computer from months ago. It seemed all right, a tad angsty perhaps, but not too mind numbingly stupid (I hope). Easiest story ever considering all I had to do was pop in a few more sentences. It also helps when you forget the blood, sweat, and tears poured into it.

Review! Or not. Your pick. Constructive criticism is always nice. ~ATC