Love Burned, She Rose Unscathed

The meal was a feast for the senses, a classic roast with all the trimmings, yet Carlisle squirmed uncomfortably with each bite. As soon as polite society would allow, he made an excuse and left.

The house fell eerily quiet. Roseanne was left clearing the dishes, Hertha's words echoing in her head unbidden. "Murray's got a perforated ulcer."

Her mind wandered. Clatter! A plate slipped from her grasp, shattering on the floor.

Instinctively reaching to gather the pieces, she nicked her finger on a shard. A sharp hiss escaped her lips as tears, unbidden, splashed down onto her hand.

After six years, not just days or months, habits were deeply ingrained in her. At the news of Murray's hospitalization, her first instinct was worry, an urge to visit him at the hospital.

But reason held her back. Roseanne thought she would gradually get used to not worrying and not shedding tears for him anymore.

From the brilliance of their love to the weariness of companionship and separation, the cracks had been forming for a long time.

Maybe it was from his first broken promise or perhaps his first lie. When Roseanne looked back, only fragments remained. Six years could be enough for a touching love story or a tragedy that wasn't worth remembering.

...

high heels. Rushing, she stumbled over some trash in the hallway, cursing the building. "What a dump!

Her phone rang.

Shouldn't you be resting?" she snapped, still seething, yet her tone softened slightly,

just woken up in the hospital

her to visit you," Cliff explained

flickered, waiting another forty minutes, his eyes repeatedly darting to the door amidst bouts of

and dialed

Hertha mumbled, "Out."

long

drag Roseanne along and not keen on returning to the hospital to annoy Murray, Hertha

I head home first, pick up the chicken soup Mom made for

and..." , kne

isn't with you?" he cut in,

Oops! Hertha sighed. "No."

Always meddling!" "Yeah, I'm meddling.