Desperately trying to conceal my terror, I summon all the courage I have ever held in my life, and allow a cold, unfeeling look to settle in my eyes, to spread across my face. I set my bag down on the floor, take a deep breath, and turn to face my murderer.
"What will happen to her?" The words slip out of their own accord. It's all I care about. Even now, as I stare death in the face, Cosima is all I can think about.
The gunshot is the only answer as I fall backwards, searing pain shooting through my stomach, leaving behind a trail of deep red that stains the pristine white of the car. Gasping from the shock, I hit the ground with a loud crack, clutching the damp patch in my blouse, feeling the warm, sticky liquid seeping through my fingers. The blood runs quickly, dripping from the wound, down my side and trickling onto the cold, grey concrete, where it collects in a pool of deep red. I tilt my head back, resting against the back of the car, and exhale slowly as silent tears begin to spill from my eyes. The pain subsides after only a few moments, giving way to a dull ache that spreads through my whole body, filling me with emptiness. I ache for all the time I will never get to spend with Cosima, and that she doesn't understand that I would do anything for her. I ache for the times we hurt each other. I ache for the future we will never get to share.
I can feel my eyelids becoming heavier, and I know I am close to the end. I give in, allowing my eyes to close, though the tears still fall. And I see her. Her eyes, framed by thick black eyeliner, intense and smiling behind her glasses. The silver ring in her nose and the dreads falling over her shoulders. She laughs, the most magical sound, and takes my hand in hers, fingers interlocking, leading me away. She is curled up beside me, nestled in a patterned blanket, deep in sleep. She kisses me softly under the mistletoe on a cold winter's evening as delicate snowflakes fall into her hair. She smiles through tears of joy as we exchange rings, wearing an elegant white wedding dress. She sings a lullaby as she cradles our baby daughter in her arms. And in our old age, she leans her head against my shoulder as we gaze out at the wide, wavering ocean, stars shimmering off the water.
But this is not our fate. And that's okay, because dying for her is easy. If I had to I would do it over and over again.
And I am finished now, and I take comfort in the fact that I was able to tell her goodbye, to kiss her one last time. That I will take with me, and it provides me comfort in my last moments. I slump further to the ground, the blood still trickling from my wound. I breathe in, then out, and I am finished.
Au revoir, Cosima. I wish you a long and happy life, but when it comes to an end, come find me. I will wait for you. Forever.
