He holds her hand gently, lovingly, careful to not disturb the tubes in the back of it. The steady metronome of medical equipment provides white noise for his thoughts, a symphony for his tears.

Even here at the end, he finds her beautiful. He cracks a smile for her. “I remember when I first saw you, do you?” He pauses, not expecting an answer. “I had crashed through your window. You came running out in that night gown.”

With his free hand he wipes away a tear. “I loved you even then.”

The beeping subtly shifts into a solid tone.