Chéri: (pronounced 'Sherry') French word meaning 'Honey'

He stood on the edge of the cliff, glaring at the water underneath him.

It didn't feel so far this time.

He took another puff of the cigarette in his hand. Again. He took another look inhale from the cigarette and looked up at the sky and exhaled through his nose.

He flicked the cigarette into the water and knelt down to the side, seeing a small plant emerged through the rocks. He plucked one flower from it with his tattooed hand, and stared at it.

A small smile appearing on his face as his wet eyes made his vision blurry. His mind empty yet bursting with thoughts. Every happy moment with her. He took a last look at his car parked behind him, and took a deep breath. (the pic above is where he's standing)

--At the apartment—

A CD placed on the small table in the corner of the living room leaned against the vase, the words 'My Olivia' written on it, the cupboard underneath it left opened. The cat walks through the apartment, spilling everything and making a mess, jumps on the small table and walks on the table, making the CD fall into the cupboard.

Olivia walks up the stairs, suitcases and bags in her hand and her phone to her ear.

Please record your message after the beep.

'Let me guess, your phone died again, Chéri' she laughs while unlocking the door to the apartment, setting her things inside.

'Or maybe you're in the meeting. But I swear if you lost your charger again, I'll wrap it around your neck every time you leave the house.' She hangs her scarf on the hook and walks to the living room, almost tripping on her luggage.

'Ah! Yeah, yeah laugh all you want at my clumsiness.'

'Darling, I came back home. I left the job. I can't stay away from you that long. Just- call me soon. Bye baby.'

She put her phone down and looks at her trashed apartment and sighs.

'Mr. Skittles what passion you have for drinking from a cup.' She kneels down to look at her cat 'You're clumsy and I'm clumsy. How on Earth are we ever going to survive?' she laughs at her conversation with her cat, while cleaning up the spilled coffee and placing the dirty dishes in the kitchen.

'You hungry? Come on,' she walks in the corridor, closing the open cupboard with her side.

—

She picks up the ringing phone, to be greeted by her sister.

'Yes sister, I'm home. I couldn't leave my darling husband alone, now could I?

No need to be jealous sis, you'll get one soon enough.

Alright. See you soon. I'll tell him you said hi. No, he hasn't come home yet. Bye.'

She places her phone down, putting the final touches to the table full of all of Hayden's favorite foods, the unlit candles, red wine. And waits.

-in the morning-

She wakes up to the sound of her phone ringing, raising her head from the couch, she picks up the call without looking.

'Hayden' she whispers, but it wasn't him.

'Uh, yes, I'm his wife.'

'What? I'm sorry I didn't get it?'

She gasps at the man's next words.

--

'Sweetheart don't worry, he'll be fine.' Hayden's father consoles her as she remains silent, looking out the window. Their car stops at the end of the road, close to the tip of the cliff, the area surrounded my police and bounded by the yellow police tape.

She got out of the car, through the tape and ran towards Hayden's car. A few cops stop her as she exclaims and keeps running, 'I'm his wife.'

She looks inside the car, doors already open. Nothing special or suspicious inside. She gets out of the car as the detective approaches her father.

'Are you his father?' the detective asks.

'Yes. And she is his wife. Did you find something?' he asks.

'Unfortunately, not yet. But we're still looking.'

'Isn't there anything in the car, a note or something like that?' His father asks the detective.

'A note? What on Earth are you talking about? Why would Hayden leave a note at the top of a mountain?' she speaks, exasperated, pulling her messy hair away from her face, from the high winds at this point.

'No, but I have to ask you some questions, with your permission,' the detective starts.

'Alright.'

'Was there a change in Mr. Hayden's behavior in the past few weeks, maybe months?'

'For fuck's sake, what are you talking about, detective?' she scoffs.

'Olivia calm down. He's just doing his job.' His father speaks.

'I understand what you're going through, but I have to ask you about this,' he looks to the car. 'Did Mr. Hayden have any medical or mental illness?'

'No! We had a mutual and comfortable break-up. I was going to have to travel to work but I gave up, alright? And then we would have dinner.' She places her hands on her face. 'Why am I telling this to you?' she pushes the hair away again. 'Why are you asking about this?'

The detective sighs, 'We encounter accidents like this a lot in this location.' He takes a pause, 'Like suicide and others. So, I think you should prepare for the worst.'

'You can fucking prepare' she scoffs. 'Not like this,' she moves the hair away from her face. 'Hayden would never do something like this. Bullshit. You know him' she points at his father and walks towards the cliff.

'Olivia.' He yells as she stands on the edge of the cliff. The same place he stood before.

'How?' she places her hand on her forehead, looking at the water underneath.

Okay so, heh,

Ik this is written in third person cuz i wanted to try something new (horrible at it).

butt (hehe butt) this'll be short and snappy and i really really hope this makes u cry cuz thats what im going for.

-love annie :)