Just give me one gift… the next morning he woke up alone…

Dread of relinquishing it eternally. His mother-in-law, still dabbing her emotions, grinned at him over the table, and in her stare resided something indecipherable. Either caution or optimism.

«What occupies your thoughts?» Sophia queried softly, nearing him with a goblet of wine.

«Nothing,» he faltered, attempting to mask his disarray. «You truly appear lovely today.»

She regarded him with mild bewilderment but uttered nothing, merely grinned faintly and returned to the attendees.

And Ethan stayed positioned, grasping an vacant vessel, sensing an alteration within. As if the shroud obscuring his vision was commencing to dissipate, and for the initial time in ages, he perceived Sophia not merely as a partner, but as the lady he had once adored so intensely that he couldn’t envision existence sans her.

And, conceivably, still adored.

The subsequent morning, Ethan awoke solitary. A message rested on the table.

«Out for tasks. Return by nightfall. Love,

Sophia.»

He couldn’t endure until nightfall. He yearned to embrace her, declare «pardon me, you’re my sanctuary, I desire to recommence.»

But Sophia didn’t reappear. Not at dusk, not at dawn.

Nearing midday, the medical center phoned.

«Are you Ethan Carter? Your spouse was admitted for a planned procedure, cancer-related. Regrettably, we couldn’t preserve her.»

He lingered with the device in his grasp, disbelieving.

The universe crumbled. It emerged she was aware. She knew she was departing.

And withheld any mention, so he wouldn’t bear culpability.

All attended the burial—coworkers, residents, associates. Even his mother wept, clutching a picture of her daughter-in-law to her bosom.

And Ethan perched on a seat near the residence, gazed at the heavens, and murmured «I fell short, Sophia, pardon me, you were all, and I comprehended when naught could be restored.»