"Is it true?" She spat vigorously with tears pressing against her lids, "Are you in love with her? That... That woman?"
Keeping his voice even, Sherlock replied. "No."
"Then tell me why…" As a great pain swelled up inside her, she felt like her heart had been ripped out, "Why aren't I enough?"
"You are."
Suddenly there was an aura of grey around her; a mist that wouldn't rise and a single tear rolled down her cheek. "Don't humor me, Sherlock."
"There is nothing between me and that woman." He attempted to reach her but drawled as she backed away, "You're what's most important."
As if a giant boulder was laid on her, the terrible weight on her shoulders was bound to crash her as she struggled to catch her breath.
His lie was a type of deception her heart was not able to take. The untruthful statement leaving a giant hole in her chest, she knew nothing would ever be the same.
A feeling of something heavy being dropped down her throat, like an anvil; sharp, sudden twinges in her stomach made it almost unbearable to stand.
To numb to think about crying, she painfully looked at him. Eyes being the windows to the soul; he didn't physically show it but the truth laid there and with that, she was certain.
"Liar."
She knew from the beginning,that this paradox relationship couldn't possibly lead to anything serious. However, it happened. She fell in love. Love, to her, was a lot like gambling; if you never take a risk, you never gain experience or the ability to gain something. But with taking chances, there are times when you loose. It'd seem worthwhile to give it a shot; give them a shot, but then again, nothing is ever certain.
Rejected, she wasn't loved.
It wasn't fair, It wasn't right, that Irene Adler stole his heart.