By the time I'd seen him, it was too late.

His eyes were black as night as he looked at me from behind a ski mask.

I could feel my heart racing, my pulse beating frantically from inside my chest.

But I didn't yell.

Didn't make noise.

I couldn't risk drawing that beautiful woman out of her house.

Putting her in the line of danger.

In those crossfires.

But I guess I already had, hadn't I.

I saw him reach into his pants and pull a gun.

And the moment I saw it I knew it was too late.

There was nothing I could do.

I shut the mailbox in front of our home and I braced myself.

Ready for the shot.

And when it came, it was loud.

Louder than I thought it was going to be.

I heard it ringing through my ears even after it made contact.

Even after I was gone.

I could feel my body around me, contorted and damaged and in pain.

So much pain.

And all I could think about was her.

Maura.

The love of my life.

I felt the searing, burning pain of the bullet ripping through my skin,

but that pain was nothing compared to the guilt I was feeling, the fear.

I couldn't leave her.

Not yet.

In my haze I hear my name.

I hear her screaming it.

My Maura.

My wife.

I hear the hysteric twinge to her voice and it wakes me.

I open my eyes, because her voice draws me back.

Draws me back to the land of the living.

How ironic, I think.

The Queen of the Dead makes me want to live.

Makes me want to fight.

So I do.

I fight how tired I am.

How cold.

Because if this is how it has to be, I need to see her one last time.

I need to see her face and touch her skin.

I need to close my eyes knowing I've seen her.

Knowing that I've filled myself with her one last time.

I hear her bare feet smacking the pavement as she runs.

Bare feet.

She's not wearing shoes.

Something about that fact makes me nauseous.

I turn my head to find her, see her running, see anything but the blue sky above me.

And there she is.

Bursting through the front doors of our home.

Running and pushing people aside as she comes to me.

I hear her screaming my name.

I hear it tumbling from her lips like it's the only word she's ever known

In an instant she is next to me.

Her hands in my hair.

On my face

Grabbing my shoulders.

They are searching, hungry for me and I can see it in her eyes.

The fear.

The uncertainty.

"Jane," she says.

"Maur," I hear myself respond.

She presses her hands into the wound in my stomach.

Her fingers are trembling.

I can feel them.

I can feel her touch.

It burns hotter than any bullet hole ever could.

"Let go," I tell her. "Stop pressing."

She shakes her head, "Never" she cries.

Her voice is scolding.

Incriminating.

"Don't you let go, Rizolli." I hear Korsak behind her.

Then I am aware.

I'm ware of my partner and my brother.

I'm aware of my mother running towards us.

I'm aware of Tommy holding her back.

In this moment I am clear.

Clear enough to see the future, what it holds.

In this moment I look into her eyes.

Those beautiful, perfect green eyes and I smile at them.

They fly open, wide and alert. "Don't do it, Jane." she says to me. "Stop looking at me like that!"

"Maura," I whisper. "Listen."

"No!" she shouts. "You don't need to say anything! Don't say anything!"

For a moment I consider listening to her. Shutting up. Doing anything to make sure her eyes can stop watering; her hands can stop trembling.

But I can't.

And I won't.

I pull the last remaining bits of energy together as I reach out.

I touch her face, linger on her cheek before trailing down.

Across her collarbone.

Along the rise and fall of her arm.
Over each smooth finger that I know so well.

Finally my hand rests comfortably over the swell of her stomach.

The most precious part of her.

The most whole.

Her baby.

Our baby.

"I hope she has your eyes." I say

And then I am gone.

Being pulled backwards into a black hole that seems like it has no end.

Falling farther and farther away from the only person I've ever truly loved.

And as I fall, her voice gets quieter.

Quieter and quieter as I get farther and farther.

The blackness consumes me as I embrace what is coming.

I welcome it.

And as I do I see the face of my wife.

My beautiful wife who didn't deserve this.

Didn't deserve someone who couldn't stay for her.

But it's too late.

Too late to go back and change it.

Too late to go back to that September night, that first kiss.

And even though I want to, even though I knew in that very first moment that this wold eventually happen, I don't regret it.

I don't regret it because I'm too selfish.

Too selfish to have given her up right then.

Too selfish to regret these four years because they have been the best ones of my life.

They have been everything I ever dreamed my life would become.

My life.

She is my life.

She gave me a life.

Every giggle and laugh, every fight and ever tear.

Everything about her is everything I could ever want.

Everything I could ever dream of loving.

I think about her as the doors close behind me.

My time here coming to an early end.

I see her eyes.

I see her smile.

I see that one piece of hair that always sticks out in the mornings.

I see everything that makes Maura the person she is.

The woman that she is.

And these little things,

these tiny bits of life,

they consume me.

Rock me to sleep.

Literally.

Metaphorically.

And I am gone.

Gone with life inside of me.

Too much life.

Too little time.

I'm unsure if I am going to continue this story, but I am leaning towards yes.
Review kindly and let me know your thoughts?

Blessings
O