Once home, I put the perfume inside a drawer. I never even opened it, just placed it there, trying to forget about having it.
Three weeks later, my life suddenly changed. I lost my husband and my world turned upside down.
The watch I had given him was on the bedside table, still ticking. The perfume in my drawer was thus still there, a silent witness to the last time we celebrated anything together. I simply could not look at it without a sharp stab of remorse. I could see the disappointment in myself as I stood so silent.
Oh, if I could turn back the time to that night just to hold his hand and truly enjoy the moment before it was gone. But sadly enough, grieving does not have a rewind button. It just takes away the words you didn’t say, and what you will never get the chance to say again.
