It didn't hit until a week later.
Jen had come home after that horrible night and she went to bed. When she woke up the next morning, nothing happened the way she expected it to.
When she opened her eyes all she heard was the sound of the wind in the trees and her dog walking around. There was nothing else above her, just the ceiling.
This continued for a week; the continual expectation of something to change, some sign that the universe knew that Michal had died and was grieving with Jen, but none came.
One week after she woke up that first morning she was cleaning her kitchen.
Her kitchen wasn't particularly dirty, but she liked to clean every Saturday anyway. She was going through the drawers below her cabinets when she stumbled across a small binder.
At first she didn't know what was in it, and she didn't remember. She just stared at it dully, wondering if someone had given it to her or not.
She pulled it out and looked at the cover before opening it.
She stopped breathing.
All the roses he gave her were pressed and saved on the first five pages of the book. All of them were there. Michal.
She didn't realize she was crying until she saw the tears splatter the page, making little round bubbles of wet that seeped in and warped the pages.
She threw it in the trash.
