To the casual observer he was a regular bloke sitting on a picnic table in the park having coffee, a cheese burger and fries but he was a retired cop waiting for his ex-partner’s widow. She called him that morning and asked him to meet her here. He knew it was dumb of him to come but he couldn’t help it. He was still in love with her. He didn’t plan for that to happen but it did. Their relationship began shortly after Mike’s funeral and lasted for several months before he decided to end it because of the guilt.
He slid off the table and turned around. “Hello, Jenny.” He took off his cap.
“Thanks for coming. I have something to tell you.”
“What is it?”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m three weeks.”
He ran his fingers through his salt and pepper hair. “So, what do we do now?”
“So soon after Mike’s death?”
“I need time to think—“
“Okay. I’ll call you later.” She turned and walked away.
Steve collapsed on the bench.
Jenny made the call. “I did what you told me.”
“Good,” a man’s voice replied.
This was written for Sunday Photo Fiction based on the photo prompt above. For more details, you can visit here.
To read more of the stories based on this week’s prompt, visit here.