Fade

This writing prompt was given to me by my friend Eric. (His words are italicized)

He gently swirled the golden liquid around in his lead crystal snifter, put his nose inside the glass, and inhaled the exotic perfume of aged agave. It was the perfect drink to toast her, he thought. He lifted his glass to an empty room and closed his eyes as the sweet, smooth liquid poured down his throat. A single tear fell and dropped on his lap. He laid his head back in his chair, his glass dangled at his side, and allowed the memories to surface. A slow smile spread across his lips as a shockingly clear picture of her came into focus. They were on their anniversary trip. The sun was setting and the sky was brilliant orange and pink, turning the blue waters into a myriad of rippling color. She skipped across the sand at the edge of the water, smiling and squealing as the low waves lapped at her ankles. He sat in a chair a few yards away, watching and breathing in her beauty and child-likeness. He wished he could be more like her, more spontaneous and carefree, but his feet were firmly cemented in his old ways. She laughed and waved at him to join her but he just shook his head and continued observing. Her skin glowed from three days in the sun and her blond hair shimmered with natural highlights. He remembered the pink skirt she wore and how it bounced up when she jumped in the surf. He also remembered how he felt every time her tanned thigh was revealed. He marveled at how he could get so excited by a little extra skin of a woman he had touched a thousand times.
Suddenly the memories were too real, too present for a day like today. He opened his eyes and put down his glass on the table next to his chair. He literally shook his head and tried to loose the pictures of her as he stood up. He couldn't have them so vivid right now. He would save them for later. Later, when all the well wishers had left. When the last of the food had been put away and all of her friends had kissed him goodbye and said how very sorry they were, then he could crawl into bed and remember all he wanted. Not now. Now he would put on a brave face and hold his head up high. Now, he would comfort her family, make the arrangements, and be strong. He heard her voice from somewhere in his head and his knees buckled. The chair was close enough to support him and he sat back down. "It's okay, you don't have to be strong," she said.
His heart raced and the tears flooded his eyes. He put his head into his hands sobbing like a child. Her presence was so real, so tangible. He called out, "I need you, honey. Please come back." All the strength he thought he had, left him and he felt like weighted vests were laid over his back. He stayed like that, slumped in his chair, for a long time. Nobody bothered him. Maybe they even forgot about him, so engrossed in their own stories, their own memories.
The bright sun filtered in through the blinds and eventually faded to dusk casting an eerie pattern on the floor. He sat in his chair, motionless, as the night crept in.