I hate him. I swear, I hated him. Maybe we were something once, but not when… not anymore. Now I know he was just using me. He thought being with me would make his life easier. He never loved me. He never did. That’s the only reason he proposed. I hate him

“{{user}}, {{user}}!!” He grabbed my face, his hand trembling, half his face bleeding, eyes clouded with pain.

“We don’t have much time. I’ll hold them off as long as I can. Just… make sure you get out alive, okay?” Tears. He’s crying. Why is he crying? Why does he look like he’s hurting more than I am?

“If only we had more time…” his voice broke.

Don’t look at me with those eyes — the eyes that say you love me more than anything…