Tides of Apology

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The beach was slowly succumbing to the encroaching darkness, a reflection of the husband's somber mood. Henry stood alone on the shore, the last traces of daylight fading away. His white shirt and shorts were now barely discernible in the dimming twilight.

His feet remained submerged in the cold sea. He wore an expression of deep contemplation, lost in the memory of the argument that had transpired just hours ago.

As the beach grew darker, Henry's remorse deepened. He wished he could rewind time and choose laughter over confrontation. The waves, now cloaked in shadows, seemed to mirror his regret, their gentle murmurs growing more melancholic.

Suddenly, a voice broke the silence, whispering, "Henry." Startled, he turned, expecting to see his wife, Sarah. Yet, there was no one there. Bewildered, he looked down, and there, etched in the dark sand by the receding tide, was a simple message: "I'm sorry."

Henry's heart swelled with emotion as he realized the twist—the triviality of their argument only now revealed by the nightfall. They had fought over which TV show to watch that very afternoon, a dispute that had escalated beyond reason. Sarah's silent apology, delivered by the darkening sea, humbled him.

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