Page 3 of Malevolent Secrets

One morning, weeks after Jeremy's death, I wake with his shirt still clutched in my arms. The fabric is worn, familiar against my skin.

I bury my face in it, seeking solace in the lingering scent of him. It’s a mix of sandalwood and the faint tang of his cologne, a scent that once brought comfort but now serves as a painful reminder.

I force myself to rise, to face another day without him. The routine of survival takes over—shower, dress, eat—each action a mechanical response to the emptiness gnawing at my soul. I avoid looking at our photos, afraid of the raw grief that threatens to overwhelm me.

Days meld into nights as I wander through the labyrinth of mourning. There are moments when I forget, when the weight of loss lifts for a fleeting instant.

But those moments are always followed by a crashing wave of reality, dragging me back into the depths of sorrow.

I often find myself standing by the window, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance. Jeremy loved this view, the way the skyline shimmered against the night sky. His absence is a palpable ache, a void that refuses to be filled.

***

His funeral is a simple affair. We gather at the St. Andrews cemetery where a grave has already been dug.

It’s just a small gathering of his co-workers and friends to pay their last respects. Like me, he was all alone in the world. I couldn’t face a bigger crowd of mourners than that..

Carlton, his best friend from the office, taps my shoulder and pulls me in for a brief hug.

“I'm sorry Dani. Jeremy was one of the good ones.”

“Yes, he was.” My voice probably sounds waterlogged from all the tears I've cried, but I can't seem to stop.

“If you need anything, anything at all, please let me know. I'm here for you.”

I nod, he gives my shoulder a squeeze and walks away. I walk on legs that don't feel like mine and I settle onto a bench.

“Hey.”

I look up to see Renee looking down at me.

She is the closest thing to a friend that I have. We've known each other for a few years now because we work together at the advertising agency.

I try to smile, but the effort is useless. I don’t remember how to smile.

“Here.”

I look at the cup she's holding and raise my eyebrows.

“Chamomile tea. Figured you’d need something calming in the midst of all this chaos.”

I take the mug from her and set it on my lap.

“Thanks.” I’m not going to drink it, not because I don’t want to, but because since that night, my stomach has clamped shut and refused to open. It’s like my appetite has grown legs and run away from me.

She sighs and lowers her body onto the bench beside me.

“I always thought the two of you were a strange couple.”

I look at her in surprise.

“Should I be offended?”

“That’s up to you, but I didn’t mean it to be offensive. I just meant that…the two of you weren’t really all that compatible from the outside looking in. But you two didn’t care about the norm and it was obvious in the way you interacted. It was clear that you loved one another so much.”

I stare at her for a few seconds. Her red hair is hanging loose down her back, and her gray eyes don’t give away what she’s thinking.

“Um… I’m not sure what to say to that.”