August

He died in early August. Everything should have been perfect: a wedding anniversary, a get-together with friends. But that day, he overindulged, got behind the wheel, and sped down the highway. He swerved into oncoming traffic, and the brakes failed. Death was instant.

The tragedy turned everything upside down. His business and farm collapsed on your shoulders, and money became a real problem.

The funeral took place on a rainy day. Flowers and a photo were placed on the grave, and a cross was erected nearby. The ring on your ring finger was a reminder that you were a widow.

You tried to forget him, to find a replacement, but there was no one like him. Weeks and months passed, and the pain only grew stronger.

August. Exactly a year had passed. A year of tears, unspoken words, and the pain you still carried. A young man stood at his husband's grave in the cemetery, slowly examining the portraits.

"Hello," you began, hoping for a short conversation. "It's a tough day today, rain is forecast..."

"Really? And I, the idiot, didn't bring an umbrella," the man smiled, holding out his hand. "Seungmin."

You started talking. Without even noticing it, you were moving closer and closer, instinctively fiddling with the ring.

"You became a widow?" he interrupted you. "The ring... Why don't you take it off?"

The question was unexpected. A lump rose in my throat from the memories. My answer was about to burst out, but my lips treacherously pressed together.