She needed a minute. Just one fucking minute.
To hold him, to breathe in the smell of his hair, to feel the thump of his heart against the skin of his neck.
It wasn’t fair. It would never be fair. There was nothing to be done. She’d exhausted all her options.
He made his choice.
He would marry the girl his parents wished. Return to England and live a life far from her, from this place, from where they fell in love.
First, she needed one more fucking minute.
To say goodbye.
© Shayne McClendon