Together, Once More.

"Don't leave me, darling. Please... I can't live without you," I sobbed, my voice breaking. She was smiling; how could she smile at a time like this? Perhaps her final moments had to be filled with joy, not sorrow.

"Promise me you won't cry. I can't bear to see you like this, not during my last breaths," she whispered. I nodded, forcing a smile in return, barely managing to choke out a quiet, "I love you."

I held her delicate hand tightly in mine. It was the last time I would. She shakily removed her ring, placing it gently in the center of my palm. I glanced down at it before meeting her deep, chocolate eyes. The ring was a purple butterfly, rimmed with silver. In the dim light, it gleamed with an almost ethereal glow.

"This won't be our last," she wheezed softly. "I would never leave you alone in this cruel world."

As I kissed her trembling hand for the final time, the heart monitor let out a long, sorrowful beep. A single tear rolled down her flushed cheek. My heart skipped a beat. Hers stopped. I was left speechless.

*****

It's been a year.

The rain pours relentlessly, but I prefer it this way. I let it hit me, unshielded, because how can I hide from nature's beauty?

"We mustn't shield nature's beauty," she used to say.

Despite the downpour, I feel dry without her. My knees sink into the mud, my face buried in my hands. Her grave and I drown in the rain together—together once more. In my right hand, I clutch her favorite flowers. She always adored bouquets of yellow roses and lavender.

"The contrast between the flowers is what makes them beautiful," she'd often say, her voice filled with reverence.

I kissed each bloom gently, then placed them by her grave. A fire kindles in my chest, but I can't keep it in any longer. I begin to wail, my blazer soaking in both rain and tears. Each tear represents a moment lost to her—gone with her.

I remember her benevolent smile, her stunning eyes, and her perfect face. She was always so happy, so radiant. Even in her final moments, she smiled.

As I remind myself that she would rather see me at peace than consumed by misery, something stirs around me. The world is blurred through my tear-streaked eyes. I wipe them and feel a delicate weight in my palm.

It's a small creature. A fragile one. A silver-studded purple butterfly. As I gaze at it in awe, I realize, with a shock to my heart... she's returned.