He wished he was lying, but he wasn't.
He wanted, so badly, to hate this parasite, this thing that had sucked out the soul and life of the one he loved. He wanted to curse to yell, to scream all that was holy for all those worms to hear, to know the pain they'd caused. He wanted to want her pain.
And it killed him that he didn't.
It killed him, that when he looked into those gorgeous freckled eyes, he saw not only one woman he loved, but two.
He wanted to hate her for stealing his Melanie away, but he couldn't help but be grateful.
For that, he hated himself.
But not her—no, never her.
"Stay here, Wanda. With us. With me. I don't want you to go. Please. I can't imagine having you gone. I can't see that. I don't know how to… how to…"
He wished he was lying, but he wasn't.
And it broke his heart.
