Elude

Twenty-Four hours before we were to be married--I offered to shoot her. Ten hours before our wedding--I made a mockery of her dying wish. Five hours before we were going to say our vows--I promised I'd never love her. One hour before I said I do--I vowed I'd never shed a tear over her death. But the minute we were pronounced man and wife--I knew. I'd only use my gun to protect her. I'd give my life for hers. I'd cry. And I would, most definatly, lose myself, to a dying girl---a girl who by all accounts should have never been mine in the first place. I always believed the mafia would be my end game--poisoning my heart, while it claimed my soul. I could have never imagined. It would be my redemption. Or the beginning of something beautiful. The beginning of her. The end of us.