How could he choose between them?
Rose was beautiful, smart and her temper, which put some people off, was his favourite thing about her. When her face turned as red as her hair and she ranted and raged, he couldn't help but laugh and lean forward to mould his lips with hers, his hands threading through her ruby red hair as though to anchor her to him forever.
But was it right? She was almost like his little sister, when she was growing up. He remembered the lazy Sunday afternoons when she'd come round to play with Lily. He'd see them pounding down the stairs, a mess of ginger hair and freckles.
They'd beg him to bake with them, and he'd pretend he was too tired or he had homework, but he'd eventually give in. They'd cook for hours, chatting, laughing, making an assortment of delicious deserts - cakes piled high with fluffy buttercream, ginger biscuits, caramel shortbreads, a variety of things as sweet as the time they'd spent together making them.
Could he really love her, that way, when they'd done all those things as though they were siblings? And, of course, there was Dominique.
Gorgeous, crazy, unique Dominique. Every one of her nails was a different colour, clashing wonderfully with the next, and the scarves she threaded through her auburn locks always matched his turquoise hair. She was different, and he loved that. With Rose, he had fun, but they behaved. They were mature adults and had to act that way. They'd never go trick or treating just so they could feel like kids again, or fly as high as they could on broomsticks so they could feel as though they were touching the stars, or anything else he did with Dominique.
With Rose, any public display of affection and she would shove him off as she blushed, but Dominique would happily reciprocate, hugging him so tightly that when he breathed in, all he could smell was her mint shampoo.
But did he really love Dominique, or was he just in love with the idea of loving her? Did he really love her, or did he love how, when he was with her, he could see such beauty in the world simply by looking at it through her eyes?
In the end, Teddy didn't have to make the choice. After a bottle of wine and some dark thoughts, Rose found herself standing on a bridge. Tired with waiting, she made her own decision - the decision to die. Teddy's deliberation had taken his Rosie away from him, and he hated himself. He wished he'd gotten to her sooner as he stood on the altar and vowed to love Dominique forever. He wished he'd told Rose that he had chosen her, because the second he found out she was dead he realised he had. And, as he slid the ring onto Dominique's finger, he could do nothing but picture Rose and think It should have been you.