I held her hand tight, and I wasn’t ever letting go. We went everywhere together, even when she wasn’t allowed. I would just tuck her away and hide her. Even when the smell came I held tight, because I knew she would be the only one to ever see me, to hold me. At home we were safe to be ourselves. She could be out and about and we could be as loud as we wanted. We ate dinner and washed the dishes hand in hand, cherishing every second. But as I was drying the dishes, her fingers began to slip from mine. I tried to hold on tighter but an ooze began to slip between us, pulling her hand down farther. When I dug my nails in, the old skin began to tear, slipping off her knuckles. She didn’t scream, she didn’t even flinch. The damage had already been done, before our hands were inseparable.

I tried to fix her up, stitching the skin back together, but I woke up the next morning to find holes growing in her palm. Our constant sweat was growing too much for her degrading hand, but I couldn’t let go. Not again. She was, and will always be my wife. Even if we screamed at each other, even if we fought, even if she’s dead. At least we stopped fighting. I tried bandaging her shredded hand, but all that did was put more space between us.

Her hand wasn’t cutting it anymore, she had lasted a good while, but I needed something fresher, something solid. So, I went to where we buried her. I had already robbed the grave once, so I knew what I was doing this time around. I dug the hole rather quickly, leaving a slope for me to climb out. I popped open the casket, but before I could even see my love, my eyes were forced shut by the pure stench. The warm putrid smell slammed into my face like a brick wall, knocking me back. After recovering from the daze, I leaned forward to see what had become of my darling. She was unrecognizable. Her body had sunken in, with stretched skin that had turned a charcoal black. Her mouth gaped open, yet her tongue was gone, replaced by a swarming pile of maggots. The rot from the arm I amputated had grown from her wrist to the elbow. Her skin peeled back from the wound, leaving room for the flesh to fall in on itself. What was I supposed to do? Why did she have to leave me so early? It wasn’t fair. I wept and fell onto my wife, feeling my hands fall through her soft top layer and into the heated mush inside. All I wanted was to feel her embrace again. Just a simple reminder that someone out there really did love me. She was the one, the only one. It wasn’t right for either of us to be on our own. So, I closed the casket over the both of us, letting the smell sink into my body. There was nothing else to live for, to fight for other than to be with my love. I reached up, caressing her hallowed cheek, before giving her a kiss goodnight.