He didn't meet a soul on his journey back to the fort, just as he had hoped. When he finally reached his office, he entered slowly, the lock snapping into place before he finally allowed himself to succumb to a wave of emotion. Pain, unlike any pain he'd ever felt in his life, overwhelmed him until he was on his knees, his head buried in his hands. He'd been in countless battles before and had sustained injuries of all types. He had the scars to prove it. But this was one scar, one burden that he would have to bear for the rest of his life with no sense of relief.
Elizabeth was gone. She had never really been his. He knew it from the start. She was impulsive and passionate and determined. It was those qualities that James had always loved about her, but in the end it was because of Elizabeth's need for adventure that she had chosen a man whose entire life was all question, no answer. Will had come to them on a piece of plywood floating in the water, the remnants of some sort of attack. If Elizabeth hadn't spotted the boy, they never would have found him, and - James hated himself for thinking it - and Elizabeth would be preparing to marry him instead of a blacksmith turned outlaw turned pirate. It made James's stomach churn as he forced himself back to his feet only to collapse into his desk chair a moment later.
Reaching for the third drawer, James managed a genuine smile as he remembered a bottle of rum that he'd confiscated from Mr. Brown the blacksmith during one of his drunken escapades around Port Royal in the middle of the night, much to the chagrin of many of the townspeople. Uncorking the bottle, James felt more of the pain slipping away with each swallow. Before he realized it, the bottle was empty, along with his heart.