As John walked down the street he kept looking around hoping no-one had recognized him. After so many years he had found his old friend and he was happy, really happy about it. He kept following him, as Charles led him around the corner and on the main road.

"So…what happened?" asked Charles.

"You mean back then? Arthur helped me get out, gave me a chance to… live, I guess. Y-you know that Arthur…"

After so much time, talk about him was still hard for John.

"Sure. Word got to me up North, so I got back and buried him and Miss Grimshaw."

"What about… her?"

Charles slowed his pace as the memories of the person he loved most in the world brought back an almost unbearable pain. He hadn't heard of her since then, and he hadn't said her name anymore, hoping he would have just forgot.

"I don't know where she is, she never came back to me. Maybe she run away, maybe she understood I wasn't worth it and she left me" he said and he felt his own voice full of resentment.

John put a hand on his friend's shoulder to make him stop and look at him right in the eye.

"She didn't run away, Charles. She's…"

How could he tell him? But there was no need to do it. With a slight change in his look, John was aware that his friend had understood.

All those years Charles had hated her for leaving him like that, for what she had done, for her choices, and now…

"How?" he just asked.

"She went with Arthur and Sadie to rescue Abigail from the Pinkertons. They shot her."

She had given her life for them, she sacrificed herself, and he wasn't there, he couldn't help her, he couldn't say goodby, and all because of that stupid fight they had over nothing. He wasn't even angry with her that night, he was just...overwhelmed by everything.

And now, how could he forgive himself now for not staying by her side? For pushing her away and make her leave? For not saying 'I love you' for one last time?

"I'm sorry friend" said John looking at his face.

"You know where her body is?" asked Charles.

He couldn't forgive himself, but at least he could have asked her for her forgiveness. On her tomb.

"We never rescued her. I think Pinkertons got it."

So, that's how it ended. He had abandoned the love of her life, left her to die, and now every trace of her on earth was erased.

Charles lowered his head and closed his eyes, trying to summon her face, how she looked like. If there was a place where she still existed it was in his mind.

But the process was harder than he thought to be and just her eyes, her beautiful eyes, were the only thing that he could picture.

After all those years he had tried to forget her, it seemed that finally he had succeeded.

Hello!

I want to thank all of you for the support, really. Even if you don't write comments or things like that, seeing those little numbers next to the chapter name fills my heart with joy every time, because that means that there is person who's actually reading the story, and that's just great.

As I always say, bad feelings are stronger than good ones, and that's why I wanted to finish my story like this, because it's more powerful than an happy ending (Game of Thrones teaches).

If you are interested in something else, something a little different but always on Rdr2, I'm writing another Fanfic - it is way lighter, I promise - and you can already find the Prologue among my works.

Thank you all again and (I hope) see you soon!