PHOTO PROMPT © Jellico’s Stationhouse
I’ll never be able to compete with his lost love.
She’s still here in everything we do, everywhere we go. Whenever we socialise, the air is weighty with her presence and memories of a former life.
I know he loves me.
The home we share still bears her mark; the things they bought together in happy times. It’d be easier if they’d divorced, despising each other.
Knowing they didn’t want to part, that he would still be with her now if he could, is difficult to live with.
I know he loves me, but he loved her more.
Word Count: 100
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.