The remorse of a deceased husband

Summary

1

Three days after I kicked the bucket, my boyfriend, Ben, got the call about identifying a body.

He was all wrapped up with some girl, probably in his own bed, and drawled, "Just cremate her. Call me after."

...

My corpse was shoved into the furnace, turned to ashes. The people at the funeral home called Ben again.

He sighed into the phone, real dramatic. "Yeah, yeah, I'm comin'."

Two hours later, Ben finally rolled up.

His shirt was rumpled, and there was lipstick smeared on his collar.