Till Death Do Us Part

“Are you Tom Freeman?” the delivery man said.

“Uh, yes,” was the response.

“I have flowers for you from a Jennifer Tate.”

“Oh, thanks,” Tom said. “He noticed that the man was looking almost uneasily at his swollen eyes and the tear-marks on his cheeks. Probably, he believed in the stereotype than men shouldn’t cry.

Tom closed the door behind him. The roses were bright red and thicker than any he’d ever seen before. Jennifer had sent him roses. That’s what he had always liked about Jen. She was never a conformist.

After inhaling the wonderful scent, he read the card. A tear slipped out and down his face as he walked to the dinner table and lovingly laid them on it. He left to go upstairs and soon came down with a vase and put the lusciously beautiful flowers in it. He pulled up a seat and sat down.

A small box on the table caught his eye. He picked it up and opened it. It contained the ring he’d planned to give Jennifer when he proposed. He had planned the whole thing. He would take her to dinner the next day and pop the big question.

He picked up the ring and twirled it around in his fingers. Finally, he flung them both down, the box and the ring, in a frustrated gesture.

The phone conversation from less than thirty minutes ago was all too vivid in his mind.

He remembered the phone ringing. Cheerily, thinking of his plans for the next day, he’d answered.

“Hello?”

“Tom…” the woman on the phone said; was her voice barely audible.

“Mrs. Tate?” Tom had said, recognizing the woman’s voice.

“Tom, I…” she let out a sob.

By then, Tom had grown deeply concerned.

“What? Is it Jen?”

“Yes, Tom. She… She’s dead.” Mrs. Tate barely brought herself to say the words. “She was hit by a car… The driver, he… He was smoking… Ganja…”

Tom had heard no more. He’d dropped the phone and fell to his knees. Then, the tears came.

Why? She was so young. We both had such a happy, wonderful life ahead of us. But now, she’s gone…

He picked up the vase of roses. He sniffed the alluring aroma. Then, once again, he read the card. The sadness and anger suddenly became too much. He tossed the vase of flowers to the nearest wall, savouring the sound of the vase shattering and the water splashing all over. He watched as the roses fell haphazardly around the dining room.

“Jen, I hate you for leaving me!” he yelled. “We were supposed to be together!”

The words on the card flashed across his mind. Finally, he realized the irony…

“To Tom, my one and only love. I promise with all my heart, will love you till death do us part…”