Living Under June
She was not the sort of woman meant to die young.
She was the sort of woman who loved living. Loved the scent of pine on her lover's skin, and the crunch of snow beneath heavy boots. High heels had never been her friend.
She always smelled of bayberries; he'd never been able to recognize that scent before meeting her. Now his entire life was haunted by the fragile odor.
She smelled like consecrated water now, a foul, salty scent. It did not suit her.
She was the sort of woman who loved children, and dreamed constantly of starting a family. Often, she would ask if he was ready to begin one, and he, his eye constantly to his career, would put her off with a gently pat to the shoulder.
She loved chocolate, ate it without repudiation. Her figure was never a problem; her thighs were thicker than the average bikini model, but health was her companion. She loved her body, was confident in it, and didn't care that her stomach was not concave.
She had been healthy; so healthy.
She believed in heavenly beings, but was nature itself. A woman for whom the idea of an orderly, clean heaven would not properly do. She would have hated this organized ceremony, which had been put into motion because he was completely helpless when time came to pull it together.
She would have wanted something in the open air. Not this claustrophobic funeral home with its blood-dark burgundy curtains.
She had died stupidly. People die for stupid reasons, and in stupid ways, every single day. But to die because she'd forgotten when her last sleeping pill had been ingested?
She had never said so, but it was his fault that she had started on them. His fault, because she was lonely at night and wanted to sleep when he wasn't around during the night.
She loved life. And life was lamentably unfair. She had never said so, but God, it was.
She had devastated him. He would live on, but what kind of life would it be without her? Now he would have to fill his world again. He hadn't realized how much of her had encompassed it until she...
Hunter removed his sunglasses and kissed her forehead. She was cold, so cold now. She had never been cold in life. Even while standing in the middle of a snowstorm.
"I love you, Molly.