I chose an urn for Lilly that she would have loved and buried her in a cemetery overlooking the sea, full of sunflowers.
I emotionlessly bought the plot, dug the earth, and laid her to rest.
But the moment the soil completely covered the urn, a piece of my heart felt like it had been gouged out, the pain so intense that I collapsed to the ground.
A heavy rain began to pour down.
I lay before Lilly's grave and saw the white hairs that had sprouted overnight.
It was only when the cold rainwater mixed with salty tears rolled into my mouth that I finally broke down, wailing.
The pent-up emotions erupted in an instant, but crying was useless.
Suddenly, a black umbrella opened above my head.
The man was impeccably dressed in a suit, his figure indistinct in the blurry mist of rain. I could only see his well-defined hand, gripping the umbrella handle tightly.
The veins on the back of his hand bulged, as if he were forcefully restraining something.