I loved her first. She married him anyway. Ten years later, she showed up at my door, broken, betrayed, begging for help to leave the husband who threw her away. She thinks I'm being kind. Helping an old friend. She doesn't know I've been waiting. She never knew how I loved her. Never knew I watched her wedding from the back of the church. Never knew she was the reason I buried my heart so deep even I forgot where. Now she's back. Vulnerable. Trusting. Asking the one man who never stopped wanting her to help her walk away from someone else. This time? I'm not letting her go.