The single headstone stood on a small rise, the luminous white marble glowing like a beacon in the gathering darkness. A thick gray mist rose up from the ground to meet the lowering clouds, but he needed no light to find his way to the grave site, or to read the inscription on the stone.
SARA JAYNE DUNCAN OGNIBENE
1865 to 1940
Beloved Wife
Gone From This Earth
Yet She Abides Forever
In My Heart
Sara. They had shared more than fifty years together. Had there been fifty more, a hundred more, it would not have been enough. She had filled the emptiness in his life, brightened the darkness that dwelled in the abyss of his accursed soul.
He groaned softly, experiencing the pain of her death anew.
"Why, Sara?"
The question, torn from the depths of his heart, echoed in the stillness.
Why, why, why. . .
He cursed himself for letting her go, and yet, loving her as he did, he'd had no other choice.
"Sara, beloved, come back to me. "
The pain of their separation pierced him anew, as sharp as it had been the night she died in his arms.
His hand caressed the cold marble headstone, then came to rest on the earth that covered her remains. But the woman he had loved more than his own life was gone. Her soul, her essence, had departed the earth, bound for that heaven that was forever denied him.
Sara.
The other half of his heart.
His solace in a dark and lonely world.
Sara, Sara, why did you leave me? Was my existence so repugnant you could not share it?
He groaned, deep in his soul, knowing he was being unfair. From the beginning, she had accepted him for what he was. Loved him with every fiber of her being, with every beat of her heart. Whatever anguish he was suffering now was not because of Sara's decision, but because of who, and what, he was.
Pressing his cheek to the damp grass, he closed his eyes, remembering how it all began. . .