You know that having loved and lost saying? It's a line of bull. I wish I hadn't fallen in love with her. She was perfect, beautiful, intelligent, everything I could ever want in a woman. But she was never mine to have.
I met Kathryn two weeks after her ship returned to the Alpha Quadrant. Voyager's 'Delta Darling' seemed shocked when I shyly asked her to dinner after her debriefings. I didn't notice it much when I asked her, but I clearly recall it now. Before accepting my invitation, she glanced to her right, to her first officer and his borg. I was so excited that she accepted my invitation, I didn't notice. How could I have been so blind to not see it coming?
Anyway, things seemed to be perfect. But in hindsight, she seemed overly eager when she laughed. Overly enthusiastic when we made date plans. Overly excited when we made love.
That was great, mind you. She is an excellent lover, so passionate. But afterward, she always got quiet, like she was back in the Delta Quadrant again.
Six months after we met, I decided that there wouldn't be a better time to settle permanently. I asked her to marry me. She accepted. We planned everything to last detail. She was genuinely excited I think. To be honest, I think that was the only time she truly was excited about anything in our relationship. But it was the idea of being a bride that brought out that joy in her, not being my bride. Three days prior to our wedding, she received a call from a former crewmember, named Torres, telling her that he and that borg broke up.
She asked me if it was ok to have him over for dinner one night. "He really needs a friend" she said. She asked me to go out with my buddies and give them some time. "He won't be comfortable around you. He doesn't know you" she pleaded. "Trust me" she said. I did. That was where it fell apart.
I did go out with my boys. Mike and I played poker until nearly ten that night. I figured four hours was enough time for a heart to heart. I paid my bar tab and started walking home. It was ironic, I suppose, that it started to rain as I walked up our driveway. Three feet from my house, I stood in the rain, staring at my fiancée through the window in the arms of another man. He was touching her, caressing her, kissing her. All the things I should be the one doing.
I walked to the neighbors house and told them I'd locked myself out and I needed somewhere to be while I waited for Kathryn to get home. It was a lie, one that didn't even make sense considering they could see that there were people inside my house, but they let me in anyway without asking questions.
After the transport came and picked him up, I walked back home. Kathryn was sitting in our living room curled up on the couch. I sat next to her. I held her hand. And I told her I couldn't marry her. She stared at me like I had sawed off one of her fingers. I told her that no matter how much I loved her, I knew she loved another. And I couldn't be selfish and keep her with me when I knew she belonged with him.
The tears fell from her eyes when she realized she'd been caught. But we never spoke it aloud. She gently touched my cheek and whispered a thank you. I turned my back to the door as she packed her things and left. Afterward, I went to our room and cried as I saw her engagement ring on her pillow.
Now, as I sit watching her final decorations going up from across the park, I know that I did the right thing. It is still painful, but it was right. She is positively glowing in her white dress, the gentle swell of her stomach revealing his child within her. She is happy. I quickly stand before she can see me sitting on the bench. I jam my hands in my pockets and walk away from the garden wedding. It's always hard to lose in love, but I can't really say I lost her, because she was never mine to start with.