Neal sat in his apartment. His blue eyes that women seemed to find so irresistible staring down at picture.
It had been so long since she died. Peter had told him so many times that she had lied to him. He didn't understand that pain. Until now.
When Elizabeth had been kidnapped, Peter had hurt so bad. Neal had felt for him, but Peter seemed to forget that he had gone through the same thing.
He had been lucky, Elizabeth had come back to him. Kate was gone forever. It made him think, if Peter had done as much as Neal had for him, would Kate still be here? Would he be holding her right now, instead of her picture?
If everyone cared as much for Kate as they had for Elizabeth…
It had made him angry to think that just because she was a criminal, no one took it serious. No one had helped him look for Kate. No one had really tried.
A single tear raced down his cheek and fell onto her picture.
Neal took a swig of the bottle of wine next to him. He wasn't usually so rude, but he needed to chase this pain away. This realization that if they had chosen a different kind of life, she would still be here.
Was it his fault, or was it Peter's?