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"I don't understand."

From across the room, he could hear the confusion---the hurt---in her voice. He hated that. Back when they had first been dating, he had made a promise that he would never hurt her for as long as he lived. To do so now was more painful than she could ever realize. Swallowing painfully, he asked, "What part don't you understand? The part where I said its over and you need to move on?"

She stood up abruptly and walked over the vanity table. As observant as she was, he knew she wouldn't notice the streaks of mascara that had run down her pale face or how the gorgeous black dress robes she had worn the last time they went out had been reduced to tatters. No, she'd look in the mirror and see a beautiful young woman whose boyfriend was breaking up with her.

"Did I do something wrong?" she said after a long moment. "Did I say something that I shouldn't have? If I did, I take it back."

"Of course you didn't." Merlin, how he longed to get up and hold her. To simple touch her. But if he gave into his desires, he knew he would be a lost man. They'd be right back to square one. And she deserved so much more than that. "You were wonderful. Perfect."

"Then what?" she asked, whirling around to face him. "If I'm so bloody perfect, why are you breaking up with me?"

He shoved out of his chair, went out onto the balcony. Paris was such a beautiful city. He had come a few years ago with her and her family for a vacation, the first vacation he'd taken in a long time. Why had he come back then? Seeing all the places they had once visited only brought a wave of happy memories that threatened to drown him if he didn't get to drier land.

He could feel it when she joined him moments later. She moved to lay a hand on his shoulder. "Don't touch me!" he bit out. Quickly her hand dropped back to her side.

"What happens now?" she whispered.

"I don't know," he admitted. That much was true. He had no earthly idea what he was going to do without her in his life anymore. "We move on, I guess."

"What if I don't want to move on?"

He turned to look at her. "You have to," he said with more vehemence than she though he possessed. "You can't stay here. You need to...go. Just go. Leave and never look back."

Something about the way he looked at her must have told her that he was being serious. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes once more, she nodded. "Okay. If that's the way you want it to be." She waited, as if wanting him to refute her claim.

"It is."

Again, she nodded. "Very well." She walked to the balcony door, paused. "Goodbye, Teddy."

He heard the soft click of the door being shut, and dropped his head to the banister. He stood there for several minutes, letting the full impact of the situation overtake him. His body shook as he cried the tears that had refused to come for an entire month.

After what felt like hours, he straightened, and pulled out a newspaper clipping. The article was brief, no more than a paragraph or two. He ran a thumb over the picture that accompanied it, even as he read the byline.

WITCH KILLED AT THE AGE OF TWENTY-ONE, FAMILY SWEARS TO FIND KILLER

"Goodbye, Victoire," he whispered.




Now that you've read this short one-shot, can you do me a favor? Leave me a review. Even if its something as simple as saying you liked/hated/was confused by the story. I love hearing what my readers think.

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