Dear Ex-wife Marry Me by Twin Bridge

The children didn’t know that she had passed away. They’d left some candy bars on her bedside table, still hoping she’d wake up for a sweet treat. Quentin knew she wouldn’t make it through the week, but he hadn’t expected her to leave them today. “Did she see what they’ve done to the garden?” he asked, his voice raspy and his eyes reddening, as he turned to one of the youngsters by his side. “Quentin, she saw it,” the child whispered. “She wanted to get up, but I wasn’t strong enough to help her. She said she wanted to rest a bit more, so I left some candy for her.” “Good kid,” Quentin said softly, patting the child on the head. Maja, who stood by the door, overheard the exchange and felt a loss for words. She quietly left the room. In the dead of night, when all the children were asleep, Quentin took a shovel and started to dig in the yard. Beside a small bench lay the lifeless body of the woman. Maja joined him with another shovel, and together they dug a grave over a yard deep. They gently laid her to rest. Quentin didn’t erect a headstone; he simply knelt before the mound of earth and bowed his head in respect. “She worked tirelessly all her life, looking after us without ever resting,” Quentin said, breaking the silence. “Thank you, Maja. If you hadn’t come to school today, she would’ve dragged herself to class, probably throwing up blood again. Today, she finally got to rest.” Memories of Lillian flashed through Maja’s mind, bringing with them a sharp pang of sorrow. Quentin stood up, dusting the dirt from his knees. “Who are you looking for? What’s your plan?” Maja pulled out a photo of Lillian. “Have you seen her on Outer Island?” Quentin’s pupils contracted sharply. “My teacher brought her here once. I’ve seen her, but she’s gone too.” Maja’s hand trembled, and the photo nearly slipped from her grasp. Quentin’s tone was flat, “My teacher saved her, but she couldn’t bring her back. Just like we did just now, we found a place for her to be laid to rest.” “That’s impossible!” “I can take you there. I was young, but I remember. It’s just beyond the garden.” He went inside to fetch a flashlight and another shovel. Confused and heavy-hearted, Maja followed him. They stopped less than a kilometer from the garden, near a large oak tree. “She told my teacher she loved the tree and wanted to be buried beneath it. It was about six years ago,” Quentin recalled, his voice trailing off as he began to dig. Two meters

to end up there.” Maja stood frozen, feeling both heartache and a splitting headache. Finally, Quentin hesitated, “Should I not have brought you here?” The skeleton left no clues to whether it was Lillian or not, but the height was similar, and Quentin had no reason to lie. Maja sat down on the damp ground, her pants soaking up the moisture, but she seemed not to notice. Was Lillian truly gone? Suddenly, a sharp pain in her stomach caused her to