the museum of broken dreams...

   Please, Lord, give her more time. Please..just..please.
   His thoughts were a-muddle, alternating between praying and cursing.
   Get the f*ck out of my way! Move!
   He has never prayed with such fervour before.

   And yet, it was too late.
   He was too late.

   You know how I feel about this.
   'I do. But you know what I want. Above everything else.'
   I do. But we can wait. We can always try later. We can...
   'No, we can't. I can't. I want to bring life into this world. If it means that-'
   No, don't say it. We'll be fine. You will be fine.
   She kissed the hand he used to silence her, then wiped his tears. 'I love you.'
   And I, you. Forever?
   'And always.'

   He laid a fresh rose on her grave, as he had done everyday for a year now, everyday with tears in his eyes and a bleeding heart.
   He always came alone. He would not bring him here yet.
   Wiping his tears onto the gravestone and kissing the cold marble, he left the grave as well as the shards of his heart.
   'I will come back tomorrow, love. Sleep well.'

   He took the handkerchief and wiped the tears that were streaming down his face.
   The old man stood patiently, giving him his privacy to mourn for his losses.
   Finally, when the tears have abated, he looked to the old man.
   'Tell me.'