It was the day the telegram arrived that I knew she couldn't be mine anymore. It was that day that my heart, or at least what was left of it after Kathleen, crumbled into pieces. But it was my job, as both her friend and lover, to be strong for her.
I remember every single minute detail of that morning. Florence was in the parlor with Violet, her baby daughter. She was playing her some stringy violin song as the smell of coffee swept through the kitchen. When I walked into the room and sat down at the window ledge, I fell into a sort of daze. I don't know if it was brought on by last night's booze or what I saw her wearing but suddenly I just had this picture in my head. A picture of committing to her. At the time, she was wearing this house dress with an apron covering her skirt so nothing will dirty her dress. For a moment I wondered if she'd wear that while making breakfast for our kids. Or while she made dinner for a few of our friends during summer parties. For a minute I had this whole life planned out with me and her together. We'd have kids and a beautiful home. We would live off the gold of my fortune and we could always be together.
With any luck, our kids would look exactly like her and they would act like her too. I wouldn't want any of me to ruin them. But I would love them. I would love them until they were sick of me and leave home. But I would never leave them. I would never make the mistakes my father made with me and Hailey. And every single day I'd hug her and I'd kiss her and tell her I love her because I would. I would love her with every second of everyday.
She could change me. She could turn me into the man that I want to be when I'm with her—a man who deserves her. Someone like Ed.
It was only when she started whistling to a more upbeat tune that I snapped out of it. I rubbed my eyes and stared deep into the cup of coffee sitting in front of me—black with two sugars on the side of the plate and a small cup of milk. Of course she knew how I take my coffee. Nicholas, one of the older butlers took a small bundle of mail and placed it on the kitchen counter, exiting promptly through a hidden corridor behind the pantry. I grumbled something resembling "I got it" and moved to get the bundle. I looked blindly at the few letters there were and set them on the table just as she put her coffee—more milk than coffee with vanilla bean, cinnamon and a few ice cubes (she doesn't like things to be too hot)—on the counter. She grabbed one of the letters and went over to the dining area and turned on the lamp to see it better. I took a letter that had my name on it and stared dumbly at the return address. Nothing important just a friend back in Milwaukee probably just looking to come visit me and my sister. As I read through the letter, three things happened all at the same time:

First, I lifted the coffee cup up to my mouth too quickly and some hot coffee spilled on my chest.

Second, Florence played a very long, drawn out, deep note that set a melancholy tone to the song that had just began.

Third, a thud was heard from the next room followed by hysteric, tortured cries.

I wiped off the spill and ran to the room. I helped her up from the floor and wiped her tears with the cuff of my sleeve. She clung to me, barely stopping her sobs to breathe, as I stroked her hair. We hobbled over to the couch where she collapsed again, the cushions breaking her fall. I sat down with her and studied the image before me. As much as it broke my heart to see her crying, I felt like I was the center of her world. When I sat down, she immediately took hold of me like there was a magnetic force between us. She cried on my shoulder for what felt like days but it was probably just shy of an hour. I held her in my arms like a child as she rested her head on my chest, trying to catch her breath. I stroked her hair softly for a few minutes before she finally spoke.
"I have to go back home." She said just above a desperate whisper.
I sighed heavily and cupped her hand in both of mine when I noticed she still held the telegram. I gently opened her hand, smoothed out the telegram and looked at it for a moment. Her tears blurred out some words but I could still see it. It was from her doctor back in Chicago who urged her to come home because her parents caught the influenza. The very fatal and quickly spreading influenza. I folded the paper, put it in my shirt pocket and held her tighter, knowing full well that there is no pain like losing a parent. I kissed her head and began to wonder if Ed's parents would want him back as well. We all read the Sunday paper, we knew that this sickness was a death sentence and there was no way to fight it, let alone beat it. We both stayed in our own thoughts and slowly drifted to sleep.

When I woke up, she wasn't there but across the room at the doorway were two suitcases. I got up slowly and walked towards her room. She sat on a bed that was made and stared out her window. I knocked on her door softly even though it was already open.
"Oh... I'm sorry, I didn't want to wake you." She said a little ashamed.
"You mean you planned to leave without saying goodbye?" I asked trying to be lighthearted about it although a little genuine pain must've found its way to the surface.
"I was hoping I wouldn't have to." We sat quietly for a beat and then we looked deep in each other's eyes. I moved closer to her and embraced her. She hugged me back, tight as possible, her long nails scratching my back a little bit and sending a shiver down my spine. When we pulled apart her eyes started to well up again, this time I wouldn't let her cry.
"Hey," I said encouragingly, "it'll be okay." I put my hand on her cheek and stroked it a little, regretting my obvious lie. She gave a half smile, appreciating the effort as she held her tears back.
"Edward is coming with me... he figures he'll be closer to his parents just in case anything happens..." She looked back through the window, her tears starting to spill over. I gently wiped them away. She turned to me and tried to smile, "Don't worry about me. I'll visit you for Christmas. It will be fine, I promise." She leaned over and kissed me quickly. I stopped her before she pulled away and pulled her back in. She held her arms around my neck and kissed me with passion and sensuality. I held her tiny face in my hands and kissed back, I knew that the moment she walked out of the front door she was no longer mine, she knew it too. As we kept kissing and I saw it again—our life flashed before my eyes in an instant: our wedding, our kids, birthdays, anniversaries, arguments, sex, our kid's kids, growing old and crippling grey next to each other—she was still so beautiful—and then it was gone. It was a life I wasn't meant to share with her. Maybe with no one. Maybe it was an unrealistic fantasy that I could never touch. I pulled away from her, pulling her into a tight hug and dying a little inside when she kissed my cheek and whispered the most terrible, gut-wrenching, despicable word in the world: goodbye.

We got up from the hug and held hands all the way to the front door. She took her one bag in her free hand and leaned up to kiss my cheek again, for the last time. I smiled a little and opened the door for her. The sounds of the afternoon swooped in. Car motor, hedges being trimmed, chirping birds. It stunned me how the world could not stop for a second to respect this moment. I leaned down and kissed her softly hoping that she could read from that the three words I can never bring myself to say. She smiled after the kiss, like she does for every kiss.
"I'll see you when I see you." She said as she squeezed my hand. I squeezed back and repeated her. With an encouraging smile, she slowly ascended down the steps and to the waiting coach outside. She handed the bag to Ed and took a long look at me, leaning on the open door. She blew a kiss in my direction and went into the darkened coach, he followed, giving a sad wave and shutting the door slowly. I stared at the car going long after it left, wishing I could turn the clocks back to a few hours ago when she was mine.

…

Hailey finished brushing her hair and smoothed out the skirt of her new French mint green summer dress. She retouched her lip color so the red shade would be more vibrant than before. She took her white traveling gloves and slipped into a matching pair of kitten heels. As she walked down the steps, the only thing she pondered was whether she looked more like a sprig of holly or a scoop of mint ice with a cherry top. But when she saw her brother everything stopped.
He sat back to the front door, cradling his forehead with his hands. His face hid behind his knees. Hailey ran over to him and fell to the floor, embracing him. Her heel caught the fabric of her skirt and tore it slightly as she hugged him tighter.
"She's gone." Aron breathed as he rested his head on Hailey's shoulder, "Ed probably wants my head on a dish... And I may never see them again..." His breath was shaky as his eyes watered, "my best friend and the girl of my dreams gone," he snapped, "in one summer."
"Hey..." She rubbed his back as she quickly swiped away a tear of her own, "it will be okay."
"Will it?"
"Yes." Hailey looked down at him like a mother trying to console a child, "Nothing is ever really gone...you'll be together again... I know it..."

...

Another beautiful day wherein I can update early, it's lovely. The reason being that I wrote this chapter well before the Prolouge. Writing later chapters when current chapters are due is a blessing and a curse. Anyway, quite quick, the italics are Aron's narration. However, next week there will definitely be much more of Edward in the next chapter so more canons and less OC's (if I use fanfic terms). In Aron's narration, he never mentions Cara's name. This is to portray that he is so brokenhearted that he can't even write her name. Although it's not mentioned, its assumed that apart from Kathleen, this is the first he's cried over a woman. But, of course, little sis swoops in to save him. Possible foreshadowing? Who knows? (I do) As always, vote on the poll, read, review and enjoy my lovelies! Cheers!