His Tempting Widow

“I shouldn’t be here,” Vaughn whispered to himself. He was so crazy for being here in the first place. What was he doing in a cemetery anyway? He couldn’t remember a thing. His heart trembled a little when he saw the rows of graves. Seeing their gravestones of different sizes and shapes gave him a melancholic and creepy feeling. Then his gaze fell to the woman in white T-shirt and faded blue jeans a few meters away. “Why am I even here? It’s not like I know her, do I? And I don’t think she knows me, too. So why am I here? Who brought me here?” His epicanthic folded light brown eyes strayed in the almost empty cemetery. A couple of pedicabs (tricycles) were parked not far away. The drivers were waiting there, while the rest of the mourners already left the cemetery some time ago. The late afternoon sun was so bright that he knew it was so hot. But it was bizarre since he did not feel its prickling temperature on his exposed forearms. Instead, it was just warm. He should be sweating by now in his dress shirt, with his long sleeves rolled to his elbows. Again, Vaughn’s eyes went to the woman on her knees, sobbing. Even with her white T-shirt, it was clear her small shoulders shook. Her tears streamed richly down her face. Her chin and lips quivered while her almond dark brown eyes swam with salty fluid. Oddly, he could feel her heart break. He could feel how her heart was being squeezed tightly and was so heavy. He could barely breathe that a hand went to his chest. “Breathe, Vaughn. Breathe,” he told himself, taking in some air that carried the scent of funeral flowers in a basket and wreaths. Some smelled fresh, and some smelled like they were decaying. These were mixed that it seemed to make his head spin. A cough wanted to get out of his throat, but it wouldn’t come out for some reason. Vaughn looked at the newly covered grave. Fresh brown earth was being shoveled by the grave diggers. Then, they immediately cemented it while the woman was still crying. “Ace! Why did you leave me? Why?” she lamented over and over again. Her voice was hoarse for crying hard. Vaughn could only guess that she had been crying since before this day. Losing a loved one was indeed painful. Not that he lost someone so dear like this woman’s husband but he did lose his grandparents when he was young. He loved them too, not because he was their favorite grandson and that he was spoiled by them. He just loved them. He glanced at the slim man in his white shirt and jeans, standing a meter or so away from the crying woman, looking at her sadly. He had been observing her for a long while but stayed quiet. There was something in his eyes that he could not fathom though. “Hey, let’s go and let them do their work.” Vaughn’s attention transferred to the woman that spoke softly and approached the crying woman. There were no similarities in them, so he figured these two were friends or something. Shoving down his hands in his slacks pockets, he squinted his eyes at the mourning woman, who sniffled. She swallowed and clamped her lipstick-free lips that Vaughn noticed her cute dimples. Her face was makeup-free, which was something rare for him. Even though he stood facing her, she just ignored him there. Maybe because he stood near someone else’s grave, whose name was not familiar actually. “Ace wouldn’t like seeing you like this, so come on. Let’s go and let your husband rest.” The second woman, who was about her age, in her late twenties or early thirties, helped the widow. She also wore a white blouse and blue jeans. Both sported their clothes with flat shoes. Even with the widow’s petite form, Vaughn could clearly see the gentle curves of her body. Petite women were not really his type, but he found himself admiring her. “s**t! Why am I admiring someone’s widow? I’m crazy!” He cussed at himself. He quickly turned his back to block his gaze from the young widow. It seemed that he found her cuter by the minute. He thought it wasn’t good. It was, in fact, insane! In his forty years on Earth, he’d never been with a fair-skinned petite woman. Not that he was with many but he did have a few relationships, where those women always ended them. The reason they said was that he was such an uncaring jerk who was so crazy over his job. What could he do? He was too busy at work for being the CEO and never remembered any of their weeksaries or monthsaries. What kind of bullshit were those anyway? Who even invented those? Women were such sentimental fools. So, he decided to never date and do relationships some five years ago. He just buried himself at work… and well, buried his manhood now and then in some willing women who didn’t want any complicated things. That was convenient for him and for them. All was fair to both parties, and that was really great for him. He took a deep breath and suddenly fell onto his knees, groaning. His vision swam and throbbed for some reason. “What’s happening to me?” he mumbled. He could hardly breathe. “Help! Help! I can’t breathe!” He gagged for some moments before he heard some voices. Unfamiliar voices. They seemed panicking and shouting. His vision faded in and out… until it became dark.