Those few occasions that she cried and he was at fault, he felt as if he were punched in the gut, the wind knocked from his lungs.
Now what would he do? He was the picture of health. How could he go on without her?
She would scold him for that little impulsive thought he had of taking his own life.
“Live.” She would tell him.
He traced her beautiful face on the photo once again.
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