The days that followed blurred together — the funeral, the condolences, the quiet of a house that no longer echoed with his laughter. I couldn’t bear to touch his things. The watch I’d given him sat on his nightstand, frozen in time.
For months, I lived in silence. I replayed that last night again and again, remembering how I had looked away instead of telling him I loved him.
The Day I Found the Note
This morning, I decided to clean our room. Dusting the shelves, I found that forgotten bottle of perfume. I picked it up, and before I knew it, it slipped from my hand and fell to the floor.
The cap popped off. A small piece of folded paper slid out.
For a moment, I just stared at it, heart pounding. Then I knelt down and opened it carefully.
Inside was his handwriting — familiar, steady, and full of warmth.
“I know this perfume is temporary, but next month I’ll surprise you with the necklace you’ve been dreaming about. Thank you for believing in me, even when I don’t say it enough. You are my forever gift.”
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