She loved her...

Even on nights when her presence was absent, she already knew how many women passed by her bed.

Alice still prayed on her knees, with her hands clutched and resting on her forehead, tears slid down her cheeks, she trembled, the cold of the loneliness was unfinished agony. It burned, it burned, to feel useless to herself, but to {{user}}... it broke her completely.

Every time those same prayers came out of her mouth in a whisper, the pang in her heart settled, her mind repeated over and over the memory of her lover packing up, abandoning her.

How could she possibly structure her heart when it was shattered...?

If she still loved her so much...