Dominique Wilson

“He spent the next hours watching her sleep, taking in every detail of her face, of her body. The way the soft glow of the bedside lamp cast shadows on her cheeks. The way her chest rose and fell with each breath. And when the first light of dawn finally showed through the gap in the curtains he quietly dressed and turned off the bedside lamp, and left the room, not daring to look back.”

“She remembered the days when they'd been each other's everything, when just being together was enough. When she believed their love could conquer the world. How long had it been since Michael had said her name in that special way, when they'd talked all night about their dreams and their future?”

“She kept hoping something would change, but she knew she'd lost him to a world she could never be part of. So instead she pretended. Pretended to be strong. Pretended everything was alright. Pretended for Michael, for herself, but most of all for Willow. Because Willow loved Michael, and he, her – that much was obvious.”

“Finally, only her and Benji and the solitude she craved. But with solitude came feelings. Anger. Hovering between life and death. Wanting one, then the other. Hating Michael. Grieving for him because she'd loved him so. But most of all grieving for Willow until the pain became so great that she welcomed the numbness back as if a long-lost lover.”

“She kept hoping something would change, but she knew she'd lost him to a world she could never be part of. So instead she pretended.Pretended to be strong.Pretended everything was alright.Pretended for Michael, for herself, but most of all for Willow. Because Willow loved Michael, and he, her – that much was obvious”