He didn’t know why he kept them. The roses faded and dry, and the bottle contents surely spoiled by now, but he couldn’t throw them away. Seeing them on her bureau every night was both a lovely reminder and a searing pain of guilt. He missed her so much and the regrets sometimes overwhelmed him. The tears of remorse he shed were no consolation. He bent to sniff the roses once more, opened the perfume and the memories washed over him, again.