Short story

"Sweet valentine"

"How odd.
It's usually sunny this time of the year.
Cold but sunny.
I guess it some of those polar winds...
I don't know, Marianne, meteorology was always more of John's thing than mine.
Oh, my brother is fine, don't worry.
He was scared after the accident. He thought I would be angry at him, blame him for the car crash.
It wasn't his fault, it was dark and the road was slippery from all the snow.
If it had you been driving, thing might be different but... That's in the past."
Timothy paused for a moment, cleaned his glasses with his scarf.
"Guess there's no point in lying.
John and me had a fight, thus this awful black eye.
Don't worry, it's out of my system now, all of it.
All the crazy... It has to. Our girl needs me to keep a cool head."
He shivered from the cold, the snow silently falling around, burying everything under a cold mantle of pure white.
"I should have brought a flower. It's valentine's after all.
I'm sorry. I promise I'll bring one next time."
Timothy crouched, leaning over until his forehead touched the cold surface of the tombstone.
"Happy Valentines."
That was all he had the courage to whisper before getting up and walking away, almost as if running or at least turning his back to the grave would make his wife's death go away.
He didn't look back.

THE END
(so far)