Mrs Anderson sat and watched as her husband lay helplessly on his sickbed with his eyes closed. She had this gut feeling he was close to his last moment. Their marriage is currently in its thirty-second year. She could vaguely recall how she felt on her wedding day, it was all a blur now. Mr Anderson was thirty-three years older than she was. The man who stole her youth, she loathed him and wished for his death to come as swiftly as possible. Suddenly she felt a surge of unannounced emotions rush through her, she broke down in tears, her heart ached bitterly. How could she truly say she loathed him? How could she lie to herself? How could she claim to despise the man she spent thirty-two years of her life with? The reality of living in a world without him struck her like lightning.
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