He sat in the black sedan, hands on the steering wheel, as it rolled over the rough dirt path. It had been almost a year since he had made this trip last, and the guilt had been consuming him again ever since. As the sun was setting on this beautiful day, he spotted his destination. The tree that grew there had changed. Its leaves had become red and orange with the imminent Autumn and it was now dark and gnarled, reflective of its history.
He parked and exited the vehicle, but did not close the door for he did not want to disturb the tranquil scene. As he approached, he stopped in his tracks as a tear fled down his cheek. He lay the roses down at the base where the roots had erupted and covered what he had left there almost a decade ago. He sunk to his knees and embraced the trunk, pressing the side of his face against the bark.

“You kept our secret, dear friend.”

The wind rustled the leaves as if to respond.

He rose, wiped his tears with his sleeve, and left.