She started to toss books from the shelves. And he just stood there. This was so unlike her, to be disorganized…to be destructive. She was one to put books on shelves, to put them in alphabetical order, to treat them as if they had feelings of their own- but there she was…tossing them, all over the place. And he couldn't stop her because he caused her to toss these books. He couldn't stop her because it was HE who broke her. And he knew she had to break something back and he had selfishly preferred it to be her collection of books than himself.
It really all started four months earlier. She told him she loved him and he easily said it back. It was only three words. To him they had no meaning and to her they had every meaning. She never even bothered to get close to anyone and she let her guard down with him. He kissed her that night and she let him.
"I'll never let you go, I promise"
But now here he was, letting her destroy one of her prized possessions that three months earlier she had shown him in confidence.
"They say I don't strike them as much of a reader, I didn't realize I striked them as much of anything."
She was tearing the pages apart. The same books that two months earlier they consummated their love in front of.
"I know I waited so long to do this… but I'm glad I waited for you"
And the same bookshelf one month earlier she sat alone in front of
The same bookshelf a half hour earlier he told her he cheated on her in front of
"Her name?"
"Holly"
"It was Holly?"
"It was always Holly"
The same bookshelf she'd never see again. And when she finished tearing it apart she fell to the ground and looked up at him
"You know, Will, I don't think it even matters that I tore it apart"
"Emma…of course it matters, you loved those books"
"Yeah, Will, but you were always my favorite book…I thought the story would never disappointed me."