Thursday, January 9, 2014

Final Calls

I was faithfully married to my law practice and she happily wed to her accounting firm. I suppose, had we each been given a choice, we could have continued our separate ways none the worse for never having met. But, we weren’t given a choice.

We met at some business conference I can’t recall why I ever attended. Serendipity placed us in such constant interaction in that week that from the moment we returned to the city we were, quite simply, inseparable.

Sixteen months and eleven days later, we embarked upon an entirely wondrous new life…together. Suddenly, all the things we’d never taken time for were things we had to do. Cycling, picnics, walks in the woods became part and parcel of our lives.

We were totally, hopelessly happy and, given a choice, would have grown into little old people benignly rocking on the porch together. Sadly, we weren’t given a choice. A twinge in her back became a nagging pain and, when it was far too late to matter, was diagnosed as Stage 4 lymphoma.

Twenty eight months and six days from the day we met I laid her to rest. I have never wondered if such brief happiness was worth the soul-rending grief I now feel each and every day. Fate brought us together and that same Fate took her away from me just as cavalierly. The lesson I have learned is that, all too often, despite the choices we are given…Fate will always make the final calls.

This story was written for the weekly Thursday Threads flash fiction phrase prompt: "We weren't given a choice." 

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