Daryl watched from the shadows as she meandered down the dark street. It was truly too late for a walk. The only reason he had been out was because he was planning with Rick, and everything ran late. He was about to go home.
He was concerned about her because she was out so late, and because she had changed, and because they weren't talking much anymore. The more he tried the more she pushed him away.
Yet he watched her.
She was smoking; so was he. It was a giveaway even in the shadows, but she didn't see him. She never saw him anymore. He followed her, wondering when she started this habit. She'd never even asked him for a cigarette.
Abraham had asked earlier if he'd ever thought of settling down. It struck a nerve with him. He had been trying to start something, but Carol was so closed off to him. He loved her, and she didn't love him back. He wasn't interested in anyone else.
A man started talking to her from one of the porches. Daryl tensed.
Carol strolled over to him and sat down. They chatted, too low for Daryl to hear the conversation.
He squinted trying to make out what was happening in the shadows, knowing she could defend herself if needed, but he worried anyway. He involuntarily put his hand on the butt of his gun.
Then he saw her lean into him and kiss him. His stomach sank. He had no idea who this man even was, and he was kissing Carol, his Carol. Only, she wasn't his.
His mind sank into despair. He wanted to go over and punch the guy in his face. He knew he could hurt him. None of the people in this town could defend themselves, but she had kissed him. He wasn't taking her away from him, she was giving herself to him.
Daryl felt dizzy. He had lost everything. He knew he didn't deserve her, but he'd clung to the stupid hope that she might want him, someday.
He watched as Carol followed the man into his house, and the screen door banged shut, making him jump. His eyes were burning, but he was not going to shed a tear over something he already knew. She didn't love him, and she never would.