Almost
[A/N] Another drabble. This time, I was scrolling through old prompts in the writing game over on The Assimilation Trials and came across this one. Let me know if I should post more Frary drabbles!
"Almost is never enough."
Almost.
Mary hated that word.
They had almost made it.
Mary could go over the what ifs for hours, days, and come up with scenarios, ways that Francis could have survived. What if she hadn't gone back to the carriage alone? What if she had taken a different path back to the carriage? What if they hadn't stopped to swim at all? What if they had continued on in the carriage to Paris?
Her fault, her fault, her fault. Her mind screamed at her that it was all her fault. She shouldn't have gone back to the carriage without him. She should have taken guards back with her. She should have taken a different path. They should have gone on to Paris without stopping for a swim.
She should never have allowed herself to be talked out of believing the prophecy. She should have married Bash, and Francis would be alive. They would have missed out on so many precious moments together, but he would be alive. He wouldn't be with her, but he would be safe somewhere, away from French court, free of her.
She had almost married Bash. She had almost saved him back then.
"Your love," Catherine had said. "It gave him so much joy, and that is what you must remember as you move ahead in this life."
What did that matter? He had still died in the end. He could have found that same love and happiness with someone else, far away from her. He could have escaped the misfortune of being in her life, being close to her.
Only a king can survive my love, and no one below.
No. Not even him.
She had made stupid decisions. Fallen in love with him, over and over and over again. Made more foolish decisions. Endangered him. Killed him in the end.
Almost.
If she had done something differently, Francis would still be here and she wouldn't have this hole inside her chest.
Almost wasn't enough.