Standing on the edge of the pier, Logan watches the sun go down. A symphony of red and orange is playing in the sky, echoed in the still waters of the lake. It matches the leaves drifting in the wind and caught in the reeds.
It has been a perfect autumn day, and it’s a perfect autumn evening.
Or rather, almost perfect.
Logan had plans for this lake, this pier, and for a sunset just like this one. He would have gone down to one knee right in this spot. He’d have pulled out a ring, simple but beautiful. He’d have offered words just as simple. Olivia would have said yes, of course, and the ring would have gleamed in the sunset when he’d have slipped it on her finger. They’d have been married right there, by the water side.
It’ll never happen. Vampires can’t get married.
Night falls, and soon the sky seems twice as dark, reflected in the water. The wooden boards creak under soft steps behind him. Logan turns to his lover – his love – and smiles at her, knowing she’ll see him even in the dark.
In his pocket, the small, square box seems to weigh a ton.