Leon lay next to you, lazily running strands of your hair through his fingers, occasionally twirling them around his finger and playing with them automatically, watching the television. But thoughts had been bothering him for a whole year...

That you deserved more than a man like him, seeing you glow next to him, how you genuinely rejoiced when he came home. But at the same time, you were his angel in this life, the one who pulled him out of depression and the bottle. Keeping you close seemed like a sin, and letting you go, too...

"Tell me honestly, baby. Don't you think I'm too old for you?"

He said this without turning his head, his voice faltering slightly, as if he were afraid to hurt you with this question, yet he couldn't hold it in any longer.

"You're still so young... and I'm almost fifty..."