His Stupid Mistake

He lost her.

The one he loved.

Gone.

So simple a mistake.

So stupid a mistake.

So grave a mistake, he lost her.

He sat down on a park bench, shoulders slumped. His expensive suit jacket was getting ruined because of the pounding rain coming down in cold, icy sheets, but he didn't care.

He only thought about his loss.

His sweetheart, his darling, the girl who had stolen his heart.

She was gone.

And it was his fault.

A single, salty tear rolled down his well-defined cheek. The cheek she kissed when he'd had a bad day. The cheek she'd run her hand over, and feel the rough stubble when he forgot to shave. The cheek that now held his tears, because he lost her.

The one he loved.

He could still remember her bright laugh, her gorgeous smile that lit up all of her features, the way her eyes shined with pride when he called her his.

She was no longer his.

She now belonged to someone else, because of his stupid mistake.

He lost her.

What a loss.

He could still recall the way her hair felt exquisitely soft when he ran his fingers through the long, light brown strands. He could still taste her tears when he kissed them away after an especially bad day at work.

He wished she were here to kiss away his tears, tears of sadness after losing her.

Did she ever feel lost, the same way he did?

Did she ever feel lonely, like he did without her warm embrace to greet him every night?

Did she miss him?

His loss was bearing down on his shoulders.

He could still remember that last night, the last night he'd been able to call her his.

What a nice night it was.

Dinner at a fancy Italian restaurant, flavorful red wine, one plate of spaghetti.

They had shared it Lady-and-the-Tramp style, but with forks. He had dabbed some tomato sauce on her nose, and she had laughed.

Ah, her laughter.

It was like sweet music. She reminded him of an angel, she did.

She was perfect.

And he lost her.

That perfect moment when they had shared dessert, she had fed him a strawberry, and told him that she would never want another man.

He kissed her, softly and passionately. She was warm, and tasted like sugar. What a perfect match to her personality.

He had persuaded her to go dancing, even though he knew she hated it. They entered the smoky atmosphere, and he lost sight of her.

He bought himself some drinks, planning on waiting for her.

He had decided that he was going to ask her to marry him that night.

He was drunk and well into his sixth cocktail when he heard a muffled shout come from somewhere to his left.

A beautiful black-haired, porcelain-skinned woman stood there, trying to shove off a man who was trying to kiss her.

Like the mighty hero he was, he jumped off of his cheap bar stool, and rushed to her aid. He shoved the drunken mess off of her, and slugged him a couple times.

The woman, astounded by the handsomeness of her rescuer, didn't know what to say. She herself was well into her cups as well, and it didn't seem to dawn upon her that the man in front of her might be taken.

The man's girlfriend rushed across the dance floor, having just spotted her boyfriend dive off of a bar stool.

She entered a dark corner of the smoky dance club, looking around for her love.

She stopped dead in her tracks.

There, her boyfriend and the woman her had just saved were making out in the corner.

She gasped.

His hands were much higher than acceptable, and her hands were roaming everywhere.

She was giggling flirtatiously, and he was moaning.

Maybe he's being forced somehow! She thought happily. Maybe he wasn't cheating on her.

Then he laughed. He grabbed her chest tighter with one hand, the other slipping down to her back.

He was enjoying every second of it, drunk as he was.

The girl walked up to him and whispered the worst words he could ever imagine her saying to him.

"We're over."

She stalked out of the club, not daring to look back. Her eyes burned with tears.

He pushed the girl off of him, following his former girlfriend out of the club.

"Wait!" he shouted, desperately trying to think of an excuse. He grabbed her arm, and yanked her towards him.

He kissed her on the lips, hard.

She slapped him in the face.

"I told you we're over," she spat, walking away, into the night.

Out of his life.

He saw her two weeks later. She was with another guy.

He cried for days.

He had loved her.

And now she was gone.

And it was his fault.

All because of his stupid mistake.

A/N This (if you can call it a) story was intended for @crazy_author231 's contest, but thanks for reading anyways! 840 words.