God knew she loved him, from the moment they met at the fair.
From the moment she laid eyes on him.
From the moment he fought with her parents and won her hand.
From the moment he was tender when she needed it.
From the moment they first kissed. She could’ve sworn sparks flew.
From the moment he loved her back, just as ferociously.
But, time is a fickle thing. It isn’t kind. It isn’t patient. It isn’t caring.
He fell out of love, but stuck around to avoid paperwork.
She still loved him.
Even when he ‘came home late’.
Even when he forgot her birthday.
Even when she was sick, and he wasn’t there because he was busy tending to someone else.
Even when he stopped kissing her goodbyes.
She loved him. She was loyal.
But, he finally decided to sort out the paperwork. To ask for a divorce. To leave her.
And as she held the glistening bottle of the deadly belladonna in her hand, right outside his bedroom, she didn’t tremble.
Because if she wouldn’t have him, no one could.
God knew she loved him.