Tragic masterpiece
The soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains as Blake stirred from his slumber. He glanced over at Rose, still peacefully asleep, her chest rising and falling with gentle breaths. A smile tugged at his lips as he carefully extricated himself from the covers, determined not to wake her.
Padding quietly down the stairs, Blake made his way to the kitchen. The events of the past few weeks felt like a distant nightmare now, and he was eager to start this new day on a positive note. He pulled out pans and ingredients, intent on preparing a celebratory breakfast for his newly recovered wife.
As he whisked eggs and sliced fruit, Blake hummed softly to himself. The kitchen soon filled with the enticing aroma of coffee brewing and bacon sizzling. He arranged everything on a tray with meticulous care, adding a small vase with a single wildflower he'd plucked from the windowsill herb garden.