Leopold knew all too well what day it was today. A restlessness filled him, making it impossible to ease the gnawing ache inside.
That morning, after returning from Italy, while everyone else was still resting, Leopold had woken up early, prepared himself, and left the house. Today marked one hundred days since Emily's passing, and he still remembered.
As dawn broke, Leopold drove to the cemetery where his late wife was buried. The place was serene, quiet—different from all the other graves, as this plot was one he had purchased specifically for her, a private sanctuary.
Entering the familiar grounds, Leopold placed the bouquet he had brought in front of the grave, then carefully took out the favorite foods Emily used to love.
"Emily, I'm here to visit you again. Is it cold w
