4 weeks earlier

Nick finally began to feel the cold as he made his way absent-mindedly up the stairs. He touched the radiator in his bedroom. Freezing. The gas must have gone. He shuffled over to the bed and put the gun down on the bedside table.

He put the gun down on the bedside table.

Realisation dawned on him as he stared at the weapon’s cool metal surface; it’s presence so ominous in the warm glow of the lamplight. But where had it come from?

“Sarah…” He practically flew down the stairs, every possibility flashing through his head. When he reached he living room his fears were horrifically confirmed: there she lay on the floor, unmoving. She may have been sleeping if not for the halo of blood. Nick stood in the doorway for a few moments, his mind unable to comprehend the scene before him. He managed a few tentative steps into the room before his legs gave way and he fell to his knees beside his fiancée.

For a while he could do nothing but stare at her, her porcelain features becoming ever paler as he watched. Soft moonlight shone through the window, lending her skin an angelic glow. Nick thought it amazing that she managed to remain so beautiful in the ugliest of situations.

He took hold of her hand. The small, slender fingers seemed to fit so perfectly into his own grasp, something that always had him believe they were soul mates. But he’d never told her that. He had always thought himself too masculine to reveal such a thought to the woman he was supposed to be strong for. He could not help but feel he’d let her down in some way as tears began to roll down his cheeks. He pressed the cold hand to his lips, then to his cheek. Time seemed to stand still for him in those moments, and within them was nothing but himself and the fiancée that had left him so suddenly.

But time could not stand still long enough.

The End

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