It had been two years since they stood at the alter, whispering soft I do's. He sat on the couch, watching the video of her walking down the aisle. A soft sigh slipped passed his lips as the emotions he had felt hit him like a brick.
He remembered what it felt like seeing her in the white gown, how alive he felt. The sensation of her kiss lingered on his lips.
It rained, the water dropping hard against the tin roof. He sighed, waiting idly as he waited for the car to pull into the driveway, his eyes moving from the television to the window. His watch said it was a quarter after twelve.
She left three hours ago to get a carton of milk. Her phone rang when he called, but she never picked up. He left several voice-mails. Some were out of rage, others were confessions of desperation and love.
He downed the rest of his coffee, closing his eyes as he hoped for her to come home.
