Repent

The day I died coincided with Christmas Eve.

The day marked the thirteenth year since I first met Jeffrey Hughes.

Inappropriately, I recalled thirteen years ago, when a young boy stumbled towards me, as if holding a heart in his hand.

Everything had changed, and so had the people.

Sadly, I died too soon, missing the moment when Jeffrey staggered towards me.

My tears streamed down my face, as if I had exhausted all the sorrow of this lifetime.

1.

The doctor's sympathetic gaze pierced me deeply.

Before leaving the hospital, I tossed the crumpled test results into the trash.

As I stepped out, snow began to fall. It wasn't until the cold wind, mixed with snowflakes, brushed against my face that I sluggishly realized winter had arrived again.

This year's winter came so early.

I tightened the scarf around my neck and pulled out my phone from my coat pocket, dialing a number I knew by heart. After it went unanswered and automatically hung up, I dialed again.

Over and over.

But no one answered.

I stood in the biting wind, my fingers turning blue and numb, like a forgotten toy left out in the cold.

"Buzz—"

My phone vibrated, and I quickly looked down—

It was just a notification.

#Shocking, the secret backer behind the popular actress is him!

I was about to delete it, but against my better judgment, I clicked on it.

The man on the screen, embracing a female star and kissing her passionately, had striking features and exuded desire. Especially from the way he looked at her, his gaze was openly filled with desire.

What a perfect match they made.

If only that man wasn't my husband, Jeffrey.

Even more ironically, the photo was taken just last night. Perhaps one moment he was sending me a goodnight message, and the next, he was laughing and flirting with another woman.

My vision quickly blurred.

It would have been better not to see it, and now I didn't even have the strength to swipe the phone screen.

2.

I returned home and casually turned on the living room light.

The house was empty and lifeless. The down payment on this house was paid by Jeffrey and I with our first earnings, and it was a testament to our journey together.

We used to think it was small and promised to buy a bigger house when we had more money. But when we did have money, this small house felt like the best place, so we stayed.

Now, it felt terrifyingly empty.

I put down the bag I had been carrying and went to the kitchen to pour a cup of hot water. Then I sat at the table, motionless.

We used to love beef stew on Christmas Eve.

I got up and returned to the kitchen. In the fridge, there was filling I had prepared in advance, Jeffrey's favorite flavor.

My hands moved numbly through the ingredients, while my mind drifted back to ten years ago today.

Jeffrey and I were just starting our business when we had just moved here. Back then, we had to stretch every penny, so everything, including furniture, was simple.

Our table was a small, square wooden one we picked up from a second-hand market. We made the beef stew, and ate it on that table, getting through that tough startup period.

Jeffrey loved the beef stew made by me, saying it tasted like home. But we were both orphans, so where was home? We just found solace in each other's company.

Four years ago, Jeffrey threw out that small table. After all, sometimes old things needed to be let go.

The beef stew was done and smelt great.

I glanced at the time; it was getting late, and Jeffrey would be off work soon. I rushed to put the finished beef stew in an insulated container so that he could have a hot beef stew when he got home.

Today was Christmas Eve, and Jeffrey once promised to spend every Christmas Eve with me. He would definitely come home today.

He had to, right?

I sat at the dining table, watching the steam inside the insulated container slowly dissipate, watching the beef stew in front of me grow cold.