The girl visited her beloved, whom she had lost a month prior, in the grave. Suddenly, though, she noticed a black box on the tombstone. She froze at what she saw as she opened it.
Emma’s life stopped after the accident.
Days and nights blended into a single, never-ending sense of emptiness, the world lost its color, and the sounds grew monotonous. She visited the cemetery every day at precisely nine in the morning. She tidied the grave, laid fresh flowers, and gently brushed leaves off the marble stone.
Her beloved was dead when she spoke to him. She shared with him her day, how much she missed him, and how she couldn’t comprehend the harshness of fate. In a world without him, it became her ritual and her lone source of stability.
The tears stopped flowing. They appeared to have dried up inside.
However, Emma spotted something odd on the gravestone one gray day when she visited the cemetery as usual. A dark box. No ornamentation, no inscriptions. Who was able to leave it there? What was inside, too?
Emma couldn’t bring herself to touch it, so she just stared at it for a while. What was it? She opened the lid with a shaky heart and was stunned by what she saw. Because there were
There are pictures inside. Her sweetheart. Grinning, giving a girl a hug, and planting a kiss on her cheek. Not her. One more female. An outsider.
There was a letter underneath the pictures. Emma pulled it out, her hands shaking, and unfolded it. Despite the immaculate calligraphy, there was anguish and rage in every line:
“You’re not familiar with me. However, I was familiar with him. for over two years. I believed that we would be together forever because I loved him. And then I saw you at the funeral. You held his photo while you stood there. And everything became evident. All these years, he had been lying to us. manipulated our emotions. pretended to be in love. However, it was all false. I have no idea how you felt about him, but you have a right to know for whom you are sobbing. He wasn’t perfect. He was not flawless. You shouldn’t cry over him. Give it up. Live. For yourself.
Emma read the letter several times. She could feel the ground trembling beneath her. It turns out that what she thought was lovely and pure love was a deception. A betrayal.
There, on the chilly floor, she took a seat. and sat for a while until the cemetery was enveloped in evening. A tempest of pain, grief, betrayal, and emptiness roared inside her.
However, she didn’t cry for the first time in a long time. Emma simply gazed up at the sky. He has vanished. The love wasn’t either.
As a reminder of the truth, only the black box was left at her side. Freeing, yet bitter.
