The vase stood on the table, gleaming in the sunlight.
It was testimony to our love story. On our honeymoon, as we wandered in the streets of Paris, my eyes fell upon this vase and we bought it. There was something magnetic about it.
Since then, it has been witness to our fairytale marriage. 10 long years. Our squabbles and the making up, our lovemaking and curling up on the sofa watching a movie. Its seen everything.
Its seen Jamie breathe his last as well and the fairytale come to a crashing end.
Its Jamie’s funeral. I have decided to move to a different house as I can’t bear living here. I am selling everything except a few precious belongings including this vase.
Everyone’s trying to console me, asking me to be strong. What will you tell a grieving widow?
I shed silent tears, looking at the vase. Only both of us know the truth.
That day when I came home early from work to cook him a surprise meal and found him in bed with a blonde. She ran away and I struck him with the vase.
The vase and I did have something in common- a secret, a betrayal we would carry forever, sealed in our hearts.
Linking up with Priceless Joy who hosts this Flash Fiction for Aspiring writers.’