Disclaimer: Same as last chapter!

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read and/or reviewed this story. I appreciate the fact that you all gave it a chance. Also, thank you to anyone who may read this in the future. This is the very last chapter for this story you guys! Take care and I'll see you comes the next fic!

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The house was quiet and dark. Not a thing stirred, even deep within the bowels of the slowly aging mansion. It was in the dead hours of the morning, and the inhabitants were fast asleep in their room together. The man and the woman looked so natural, so in love, even though many years and many hardships had passed between them. It seemed like the personification of love, with the woman snuggled deep in the embrace of the man, his arm curled tightly about her sleeping form.

Though the night air was chilly and penetrated the heavy comforter they used during these winters, a sheen of sweat began to form across the woman's brow. Deep in the recesses of her sleeping mind, a faraway nightmare was haunting her, and had been for a long time. It had been many years since the actual event had come to pass, but still it haunted her with it's chilling memory.

She began to stir and weep loudly in her slumber. Her bedmate was roused from his own rest, but was not upset by the disruption. This had gone on for a while now, and he was used to the sound. He knew just what to do. He rolled her sleeping frame closer to his own body and held her tightly, stroking her hair back, wiping the sweat from her brow, and kissing her feverently, reassuring her that it was nothing but a bad dream, come to haunt her in her sleep.

The woman groaned quietly, but eventually settled, just as she always did. Relieved, the man returned to his own rest, hoping to catch a few more Zs before the dawn came rising, where he knew there was much to do. He was going to fix her some eggs, coffee, and pluck a rose from their indoor garden to garnish her breakfast tray with. Then he would go outside and shovel the snow out of the drive, and maybe invite her out to drink cocoa with him while they built a snowman. Yes, it was going to be a very busy day.

Just as the dawn began to creep across the sky, the woman awoke and looked over to her companion. He had been by her side, both figuratively and literally through so many things and years. Yet he would never understand the torment of the horrible dreams that occassionally chased her from her slumber.

Assured that he would not notice her absence from the bed, she quietly padded her way out of the room and into the attic. He did not know that she often did this while he slept. It was something of her safehaven. He had no great love for the scent of dust and decay, as he had experienced much of it in his younger years, and thusly did not intrude on her so-called sanctuary. She made her way up the rickety stairs and threw open the door in floor to the room. Throwing back the curtain that covered the solitary window, she pulled out a lace-covered book from under a stack of boxes that were secretly elevated, leaving only enough space to hide this treasure. She sat at the ledge beneath the window and let the dull blue light flood in and reveal to her the pages of her most treasured possession.

There were pictures of her in her wedding dress. It was a bright and sparkly affair, hand embroidered and bedecked in sequins and pearls, with rhinestones adding to the general glitz of the entire outfit. Her boquet was a spray of beautiful roses in white and pale blue. Her groom stood by the altar, waiting for her anxiously, unsure of what kind of breathtaking beauty he was about to behold. There was even a picture of him casting a sideways glance with his startling blue eyes at his watch, measuring the moments in the irregular beats of his nervous heart for the woman he had come to love more than anything else to finally make her way out.

The pages kept turning and picture after picture flashed before her eyes. As the light grew brighter, she could discern more and more the details of the pictures she was looking at. The reception. The cake cutting. More ridiculous wedding shots. Pictures of their honeymoon in Costa Del Sol. Their anniversary dinner aboard the submarine. His birthday. Her birthday. Their first child. It's first birthday. It went on and on like a normal photo album until about halfway though, where a note was placed in a sheet protector, and it looked as though it split the album in two. With sleepy eyes she read the note and followed along with a shaky finger. Each line evincing a whimper, or a tear. If you didn't know what the letter said, it looked as though she were naught but a happy lover, recounting the first written sweet nothing that her beloved had left her.

"Dear Tifa" It read...

"It all started beneath that beautiful starry sky that night in Nibelheim. The moments we've shared will never be lost to either of us because they have caused some of the most potent emotions possible to boil to the surface within us thoughout the long years to come to this point in our lives.

So far we've done very well with what we were given, donchya think? We're happily married, got a BEAUTIFUL baby girl, a big house, and a bright future with endless possibilities for growth.

The one thing we really lack though is the love that we claimed we originally shared.

I never meant for things to end up like this. When we got married all those years ago, I sincerely thought that I had moved past all the bad things that happened. I really thought that you and I could start a new life together, making each other as happy as possible, because we'd both finally either gotten what we wanted, or learned to appreciate what had been there all along (in my case).

Unfortunately I find myself once again having doubts as I watch our little girl grow up. I see the pink ribbon she loves to wear in her hair, and watch her tend to that garden she loves so much and am constantly reminded of the girl I was truly always after. I often wonder if our baby was sent to us as a reincarnation of that woman, given to me as a reason to live.

Please don't hate me for what has transpired, and please don't hate our baby for the assumptions I've made about her behavior. Don't be bitter about it and mistreat her, I may just be taking things out of context in my depression and anger.

I'm depressed because I finally realize that no matter how comfortable a life I build, I will always find myself longing for the one style of life that I would never have. That is one with Aeris. I know you've probably either stopped reading, or are on the verge of doing so, but no matter how much this hurts, please read it all the way through, as my final request of you.

I'm angry because of what I am about to tell you.

You've heard this song before, and this is the last time I'll make you listen to it ever again. I can't pretend to keep loving you as deeply as I say I do. Don't get me wrong, I didn't put you through all this without an inkling of love, but it's nowhere near as potent as it needs to be for things to work out the way they should between you and I.

Tonight I'm leaving for the last time to find her. I won't ever be back again to disrupt your life. I won't ever be back again to make you miserable. Hopefully you can take our baby and raise her well, and find someone who will love you as much as I know you are capable of loving another person. My only regret is that I could not be the one to love you half as much.

Please take care of yourself and the family we've built, and always know that I love you. Maybe it's not as deeply as we would have liked, but I do love you, and always will. Lead a happy and fufilling life. And maybe someday, if it was truly meant to be, we'll meet in another time and place, under more favorable circumstances.

Please don't hate me.

Please don't hate her.

Please don't hate yourself.

Take care,

Cloud

By the end of the letter, the tears were flowing freely from Tifa's eyes. They made odd sloshing noises as they hit the plastic sheet protector.

This was the note that they had found on his body after they had cut it down from the rafter where he had hung himself.

She had come home from her work at the bar one night to find his purple and blue body swinging from the highest rafter above the family room of their house.

Once it had been cleared that it was indeed a suicide, she sold the house and moved back to Nibelheim, taking her daughter with her.

On the way to Nibelheim, their Chocobo was ambushed by a gang of bandits and monsters. During the fray, her defenseless baby girl was yanked by the jugular off of the giant yellow bird and dragged around, and died of blood loss from the jagged scratches and bites the wolves had inflicted.

Tifa turned more pages, flipping past the obituary announcement that had declared both her husband and daughter dead, naming her the only survivor.

Towards the end of the book, there were a few picures, though not half as many as the ones in the beginning, of another smaller wedding.

A dark-haired, crimson-eyed man gripped her hand tightly as she stood in a simple beige dress before the minister who declared them husband and wife.

On the last page was a birth certificate and a pretty picture of her six month old twins, Sky and Gaia. Vincent Valentine held both in his arms, beaming proudly, just as a father should.

She closed the book and slid it back into it's hiding place. The first pink hues were beginning to peek through the electric blue that set the stage for dawn to give way to a blazing sunrise. She knew that Vincent would be up soon, and that today was their anniversary. She was sure he would make breakfast in bed, just like he did for every other special occasion.

She slipped the curtain back over the window and made her way out of the attic. She closed the door lightly and tiptoed her way back to their room. It was a long walk considering the Estate was nearly three times as large as her simple house had been.

She crept into bed and nestled into Vincent, who stirred slightly, and looked at his wife. It had taken many years and many hardships to get here, but he was sure that every moment was worth it.

Today was their anniversary. He was going to make her some eggs with cheese and green onions, just the way she liked it. And coffee. And a rose. He roused himself and got to work.

An hour later, he came into the room and shook his wife awake. She gazed up at him sleepily and smiled contentedly. He placed the tray in front of her and smiled.

"What's the occasion?"

"The most special thing in the world. Another day with you."

Two hues of red eyes met one another and silently smiled. They reaped the rewards of smiling through the tears and fighting the deadly sadness that crept into their bones in the companionship...no, love...they found in one another.

And that was the brightside.

Fin