Falling for the Bullet

I'm standing behind him as he gazes out the window with a heavy heart. I see a tear roll down his soft cheek, the cheek I kissed so many times before. He's plagued with what he's done. He knows he guilty and so do I. Before I know what my hands are doing, I feel the hard, cold metal against my sweaty palm. I cock the gun, the bullet falling into place. I squeeze my eyes shut and turn my head away. I can't bear to see his beautiful body not see another day. In one swift movement, my index finger is pressed against the trigger. I whisper, "I'm sorry." Once the gun is aimed, I squeeze the trigger before he can turn around and change my mind with the sorrow in his eyes. I watch as his body crumples to the cold floor in reaction to the bullet piercing his heart. My feet turn and walk away as my whole being burns from the pain and the memories fade away.