Willow Rose Rosenburg looked over at her calendar and nearly burst into tears yet again. Time had begun to take it’s toll on her, beating her down which each passing day.
Red roses were her favorites, her
name was also Rose.
And every year her husband sent
them, tied with pretty bows.
The wound was much too fresh and had remained locked in their house since that horrendous night. A persistent knock on her door brought her out of thoughts, her misery. Though she had requested no one visit her, she knew, as her friends, they would not. To her surprise she found a delivery boy instead.
The year he died, the roses were
delivered to her door.
The card said, "Be my Valentine,"
like all the years before.
Each year he sent her roses, and
the note would always say,
"I love you even more this year,
than last year on this day."
"My love for you will always grow,
with every passing year."
Willow accepted them, as tears once more ran down her face. She thanked the man and closed the door, feeling the familiar chill in the room.
She knew this was the last time that
the roses would appear.
She thought, he ordered roses in
advance before this day.
Her loving husband did not know,
that he would pass away.
He always liked to do things early,
way before the time.
Then, if he got too busy, everything
would work out fine.
She trimmed the stems, and placed
them in a very special vase.
Then, sat the vase beside the portrait
of his smiling face.
She would sit for hours, in her
husband's favorite chair.
While staring at his picture, and
the roses sitting there.
She curled up in their favorite blanket and snuggled in his chair, her sobs exhausting her once again. She prayed she would be able to keep the promise she had made him on their wedding, but feared it would be close to impossible. Time went on and so did she. And every night, in every spell, he was remembered. She alone began to carry the battle he had begun centuries ago.
A year went by, and it was hard to
live without her mate.
With loneliness and solitude, that
had become her fate.
Then, the very hour, as on Valentines
before,
the doorbell rang, and there were
roses, sitting by her door.
She brought the roses in, and then
just looked at them in shock.
Tears rushed down as she entered the living room, wounds that never healed once against ripped open, bleeding with no end.
Then went to get the telephone, to
call the florist shop.
The owner answered, and she asked
him, if he would explain,
Why would someone do this to her,
causing her such pain?
"I know your husband passed away,
more than a year ago,"
the owner said, "I knew you'd call,
and you would want to know."
"The flowers you received today,
were paid for in advance."
"Your husband always planned ahead,
he left nothing to chance."
"There is a standing order, that
I have on file down here,
and he has paid, well in advance,
you'll get them every year.
There also is another thing, that
I think you should know,
he wrote a special little card...he
did this years ago".
"Then, should ever, I find out that
he's no longer here,
that's the card...that should be
sent, to you the following year."
As the room once again turned cold, she sat on the chair, reaching for the worn out blanket. As much as all her body hurt, her heart ached, her trembling hand held the phone in place.
She thanked him and hung up the phone,
her tears now flowing hard.
Her fingers shaking, as she slowly
reached to get the card.
Inside the card, she saw that he
had written her a note.
Then, as she stared in total silence,
this is what he wrote...
"Hello my love, I know it's been
a year since I've been gone,
I hope it hasn't been too hard for
you to overcome."
"I know it must be lonely, and the
pain is very real.
For if it was the other way, I know
how I would feel.
The love we shared made everything
so beautiful in life.
I loved you more than words can
say, you were the perfect wife."
"You were my friend and lover, you
fulfilled my every need.
I know it's only been a year, but
please try not to grieve.
I want you to be happy, even when
you shed your tears.
That is why the roses will be sent
to you for years."
"When you get these roses, think
of all the happiness,
that we had together, and how both
of us were blessed.
I have always loved you and I know
I always will.
But, my love, you must go on, you
have some living still."
"Please...try to find happiness,
while living out your days.
I know it is not easy, but I hope
you find some ways.
But times were changing, her powers of Wicca weakening. Each passing day became a struggle to survive. She had lived much too long, seen many things, but never felt such pain with each passing day. They had lived in matrimony for over 300 hundred years, and her body had begun to reflect it.
As the time went on, her mission was clear - finish off the task so she would find peace. She returned to her lonely, chilly house, on the day of the completion and crawled into bed. With the help of her friends, some slayers, some watchers, and some witches, the hell mouths were closed. And as she drifted off to sleep she smiled, knowing she would once again dream of him in her arms.
A moment later she felt something cold on her cheek, startling her from sleep. Trying to shake off the haze in front of her, her eyes soon focused on the heavenly face. Tears soon swelled as the familiar ache invading her body.
“I miss you so much,” she strained to tell him.
“I never left you,” he softly replied with a smile.
Willow’s sobs came in force as his hands touched hers, pulling her softly from the bed. The coldness disappeared as she was engulfed in warmness as his arms wrapped around her shaking body.
The roses will come every year, and
they will only stop,
when your door's not answered, when
the florist stops to knock."
She pulled away and looked at him, her hand scared too touch his face, for fear of him disappearing as he had so many time in all her dreams.
“I never stopped loving you,” she confessed as happiness filled her heart.
“Nor have I.”
The delivery boy came by once again and knocked on the familiar door.
"He will come five times that day,
in case you have gone out.
But after his last visit, he will
know without a doubt,
to take the roses to the place,
where I've instructed him,
and place the roses where we are,
together once again."
“Their beautiful,” Willow excitingly told her husband as she looked at the flowers placed on the ground.
He took her hand in his and kissed her tenderly.
“Not as much as you.”
“I love you.”
“As I love you, mo chroi.”
“Always.”
“Together.”
“Forever.”
The couple walked into the familiar light knowing that they would never have to be apart again.