Summer kills

As dawn broke, casting a warm hue over her sprawling estate, she found herself standing by the edge of infinity; the sea crashing against the cliffs beneath her mansion. His name escaped her lips as a prayer lost to the wind. She was but a forgotten goddess in her temple of love - yearning, seeking, forever loving.

In this realm of opulence and grandeur, Ruby's heartache was a spectacle only she could comprehend - an intimate play enacted on the grand stage of wealth. For all its magnificence and glory, her majestic world was tied together by threads of love - threads that now seemed thin and fragile in his absence.

In the wake of another day without him, she retreated to her silk-laden bed adorned with rose petals that smelled faintly of him. As sleep claimed her and dreams brought forth his face again, Ruby found herself whispering into the silence of her luxurious world - "Are you really gone?"

But silence was indeed all she received in response. And thus, amidst golden pillars and velvet dreams, love continued its mournful dance - a dance that painted a tale of riches and heartbreak; a tale wherein love blomed amidst grandeur and decay, a tale that was as timeless as the stars that witnessed it.

In her dreams, the mansion changed. Its vast halls filled with laughter, mirth and music once again. His laughter, his music. They danced in the grand ballroom, the chandeliers sparkling like distant galaxies overhead. His eyes gazed into hers, brimming with a love that was immortal.

She woke with a start, her heart racing in her chest. The sun had risen higher now, casting shafts of golden light through her bedroom window and making the room shimmer with an ethereal glow. She let the dream fade away, but his image stayed with her - hauntingly beautiful yet unbearably painful.

Her day passed in a blur of rich indulgences and hollow distractions. The opulent parties she hosted, the couture she wore all seemed like mere shadows to his absence. Even surrounded by friends and acquaintances who laughed and chatted in her luxurious lounge rooms; even amidst the clinking of expensive champagne glasses and flowery compliments, Ruby felt a deep sense of isolation.

Night fell again, and Ruby found herself standing by the edge of the sea cliff once more, watching as darkness swallowed the world around her mansion. She whispered his name into the night once more - not as a question this time but as an affirmation; an acceptance that he was gone but would always be part of her universe.

She descended into their shared sanctuary - the wine cellar that lay under her mansion. Rows of vintage bottles glistened under soft lights, but she picked out one - their favorite Merlot from their trip to France. As she uncorked it, memories flooded back of love proclaimed under starry skies; of promises made over shared glasses; of souls intertwined amidst vinous ecstasy.

The smooth taste brought a bitter-sweet smile on her lips; every sip tasted like a drop from their shared history. Her mansion echoed with the sound of clinking glass and her solitary toast - "To us."

Her elaborate home theater became her solace, her escape into a world where stories ended happily, where love conquered all. With her heart aching in her chest and a bottle of Merlot at her side, she drowned herself in reels of fantasy. When dawn came again, Ruby found herself wrapped in the comforting darkness of her home theater, emptiness echoing through the silent mansion. As the rays of a new day seeped in through the cracks, she whispered to his absent presence, "Will you ever return?" But like always, there was no response - just silence and a lingering echo of his laughter.

And so it continued - Ruby's dance with love, with longing; a dance that moved across marbled floors and mirrored pools; a dance that spiraled down to shared memories and rose up with shared dreams.

In this labyrinth of luxury and loss, Ruby's tale unfolded - a tale that was filled with beauty yet steeped in sorrow. Amidst the grandeur of her existence, love carved its own realm - one that was as timeless as it was heart-rending; one that was painted not in hues of gold but shades of longing- a tale that continued to tell itself even amidst deafening silence.

One day, as she wandered through the grand halls hung with portraits of long-gone ancestors, a servant brought to her an envelope. It was sealed with wax and held a certain gravity in its weight. Her heart fluttered and leaped in her chest. She recognized the handwriting immediately; it was his, unmistakable - bold, confident, graceful.

Hesitant fingers traced over the familiar scrawl before breaking the seal to reveal a letter that bore his scent faintly - a mix of woodland pine and sea salt. It was a scent that harkened back to shared boat rides under twilight skies and walks under towering evergreens.

"Dearest Ruby," it started, his voice resonating in every word. The letter spoke of his distant travels, of lands uncharted and cities beholding wonders. It spoke of warm nights under starlit skies, of foreign melodies floating in the air. But amidst these lines of adventure and freedom, there was a subtle undercurrent of melancholy and yearning.

Her eyes watered, blurring the inked words as she read further down the parchment. "I think of you often," he confessed at some point, "Of our shared laughter echoing through the hallways, our secret whispers in hushed tones." Her heart pounded against her rib cage like wild horses on an open field.

The letter ended with a promise: "I shall return when the lilies bloom again by our mirrored pool." A promise that stirred forgotten dreams within her heart; dreams that were painted with their shared hopes and wishes.

Ruby clutched the letter to her chest as if trying to absorb its essence within herself. A sigh escaped her lips as she gazed out towards the garden where lilies stood tall but bare. "I will wait," she whispered into the silence filled with echoes of his words, "Until lilies bloom again."

And so she clung onto hope; hope that danced with her across the marble floors, hope that reflected in the mirrored pool. A dance that now had a rhythm, a rhyme; a dance that promised a reunion.

His letter was tucked away safely, like a cherished secret, in her antique desk. But its words continued to echo in her heart, stirring waves of emotions - longing, anticipation, love and painting her tale with renewed hues of hope and longing.