She remembered a drunken night when she had flown to visit him, and she was on the verge of telling him that she had never felt this way about another man, and she knew that she never would again. She felt his gentle touch upon her skin, his passionate kisses on her welcoming lips, and she let the moment pass her by. Maybe if she had told him things would be different now. Maybe he wouldnt have fled from her if he knew how devoted she was, how much he had changed her life. Maybe if she hadnt been such a fucking coward, she would be in his arms next week instead of sitting in a cold wooden chair waiting to die.
Reality is a bitch.
She had learned that lesson far too many times in her short life. He had just left, just like the others. No one that cares about someone could be this hateful, her mother had said over and over again. What a stubborn ass she was, refusing to believe her mothers wise words. What took months to build was gone in a matter of hours.