A Decade of His Hatred

After his first love died, Anton hated me for ten years.

I tried everything to win his affection, but all I ever got was a cold sneer. “If you really want to make me happy, Grace,” he’d say, “why don’t you just die?”

His words were a knife in my heart, yet when the burning rafters of our home came crashing down, he died saving me.

He lay in my arms, and with the last of his strength, he pushed my hand away.

“Grace,” he whispered, his voice a ghost of a breath. “If only I had never met you…”