Just a single tear that he wipes away with his thumb as he pulls her closer and wraps an arm around her waist. One more kiss pressed against her forehead.

One more tear falling from her eyes and landing on his cheek. And then she pulls back, opening her eyes, watching him. Watching his reaction. Watching for any sign that he understands what is happening. Hoping that he'll understand that she's not mad at him. She's worried about him. Worried sick about him. And terrified of him. Terrified of what might happen if she's wrong. Afraid of what she's done. Afraid of what she can never undo.

She watches as...