In the absence of a wedding picture featuring Simon and myself, I felt as if I had left no mark on this home.
Only a handful of furnishings were in a shade I appreciated.
I inquired of Simon, "Are you aware of my preferred color?"
He paused briefly, then uncertainly answered, "Black and white?"
I displayed a bracelet with glass beads I'd purchased in Turkey. The stunning, azure beads made his complexion appear even more ashen.
I remarked, "I believe that's your favorite hue, not mine."
"Simon, it appears you don't truly understand me at all."
My statement hit him like a weighty rock. He grasped his head, dropped to the floor, and began to weep in distress.
"But you still recognized me when you returned home three years ago. I assumed ... I wouldn't vanish from your life."
I shook my head and exhaled. "Don't you understand? I used to care for you. I desired a future together, so I made sure to always remember you."