She bends over the coffin, gently strokes the cold wax forehead with a fingertip.

For thirty years he’d loved and cherished her. Other men held her and had her too, in ways he never could. Cancer saw to that.

She fights to stay strong but the guilt hanging heavy in the stifling parlour overwhelms her.

Tears splash on his sunken cheeks and one eye flutters open, locking her with a cloudy, unseeing stare.

They’ll find a loyal wife draped over her sweetheart and friends will say how tragic, dying like that of a broken heart.

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