She could still feel the scent of southern fried food on her neck. Their dinner had been a success, and she hoped they would take things to the next level. "I love you" she whispered. He sighed. Then he suddenly spoke, "I can't...I can't...I just can't, okay?" and without another word he rushed to his silver Porsche and sped off, most likely back to the club where they had first met one year before. He just had commitment issues. She could fix that. At least, those were the thoughts in her head right after he had left.

He wasn't happy with what he'd done, but he wasn't angry with himself. He knew she loved him, and he know that he loved her back, but he couldn't change his personality. He couldn't commit, and that was that. Sure, he wanted to, but there was no way. Who's this chica coming over to flirt? No. He couldn't. Not after what had just happen. Could he change? He would try. 'Wow she's hot...' He had to stop. That hot chica could find someone else to flirt with. Wait...drinks on the house? YOLO!

What happened last night? There was that chica, was that his room? And what was that bottle? Phone buzzing. It was her. "Hey. Wanna come over to my place?" bad hangover. Dizzy. "Maybe later," what was going on?! "Bye" he concluded with a *click*. Well, that settles that. He looked around. There was the chica. She was still passed out. She said she as on the pill...had he trusted her? Oh no. He pulled out his phone.

He called her. She didn't pick up. He knew she was mad. Just pick up the phone! *click* "what. Why. What's. Why. Just explain yourself" she was angry. Oh no. Something was wrong. "I...I...I think I could be a dad..." *click*. Oh no. What they had. What they could have had. All gone. One stupid 'DRINKS ON THE HOUSE' and his life was gone before him.

He hopped into his Porsche to head to her house. Yeah he was rich...his dad used to gamble. Maybe that's why his life went wrong, and his son's life, and now a potential grandson...'focus,' he thought to himself. He tried to remember where her house was; he was still a bit hung-over. He had been there twenty or so times, when she invited him for a movie night. Those were excellent dates. You know the saying, "a good date ends with dinner, an excellent date ends with breakfast." Well most of their dates had ended up with breakfast at his house or hers. Maybe it's this next left. Yep that's her house, with the beige shutters. Love surged through him. So did fear.

After three rings she still hadn't opened the door, so he opened it himself. It was unlocked. First, all he saw was a note. He went to pick it up.

"To my Beloved"

Well, that was him, wasn't it? He opened it.

"I am sorry, but I had to do it. You don't feel the same way I do.

You have no idea how much that hurts me...You're the third

man to trick me. Why would you do that? Well, now it's

tick-tock on your life. Just like mine ended early, so will

yours. I hope you're happy with what you've done."

Uhhh..."life...ended early?" He looked around. Suddenly he noticed he was surrounded in cockroaches...that's a new one. He screamed (it was a manly scream, okay!) and turned. As he turned, something caught his eye. That hadn't been there when he arrived, had it? He walked towards it and suddenly froze. There she was, in all her beauty, covered in roaches. Pen still in hand, eyes open but glazed, and the dress they bought together two nights ago hugging her body. He reached in his back pocket and pulled out the 24k gold promise ring he picked up on the way over. He had come around, like she had once hoped, and decided to commit. Tears started to roll down his cheeks and onto her cold features. He fell backwards and slumped against the wall, not caring about the cockroaches.

Maybe last night hadn't happened as he thought. He looked through his contacts and found one with the chica's picture. "Molly Inckleton" read the name. He called her. "Hi..?" she asked questioningly. "Hey do you remember me from the bar last night? You woke up at my house. I had to leave." he said in response. "Oh yeah. I remember everything. I just need you to drive me home. You took me to your house, and then you passed out before we could party, so I was kind of stranded." He breathed a sigh of relief. So nothing had happened between them. But that meant...had she killed herself over nothing? "Yeah can you call a friend to take you home? I need to deal with something" he slurred as he hung up.

"911, what is the emergency?" said an emergency responder. "Hi I went to visit my girlfriend" - he could call her that, right? - "and when I got here, there were cockroaches and she's on the floor and I think she's dead ohmigod what do I do?" he rushed that last part, panic finally washing over him. He looked at the ring again and slid it on her finger. It fit perfectly. The tears came again, first silently, but then heaving sobs. The 911 operator silenced him and told him not to touch her; the ambulances had tracked his call and were on their way. He wasn't sure if it was in his imagination or if it actually happened, but he could have sworn she lifted her head, touched the ring, and smiled at him before coughing and sinking back. She definitely was in a slightly different position five minutes after he put the ring on her finger, and he absolutely heard a cough.

Three days later, at his regular visiting hours, he sat outside her hospital room awkwardly with her parents. He hoped more than anything she would wake up from her coma soon. He finally told the nurses about the letter, and her parents identified it as not her handwriting. The police found three finger prints on the paper. Two were his own from when he picked it up, and the third matched neither his nor hers. The doctor had also told them that pills were forced down her throat. These pills, the name of which he couldn't remember, are dangerous in high dosages and can be deathly. It was obviously a death attempt that failed (he hoped it failed). There was even a pill still lodged in her throat. Whoever had done this would pay, and he would make sure of it.

He entered her hospital room and spoke to her. He wished more than anything that she would suddenly wake up and say it was all a trick, to teach him a lesson, and he would tell her she made an honest man of him. He didn't even care if she woke up and hated him instead, as long as she lived.

Days passed, and nothing happened. Every day he visited her, talked, and cried more. Occasionally he held her hand to his chest and sobbed silently. No progress had been made on finding her attacker. He had talked with the police multiple times, telling them everything - except the parts with the ring. They had his number and promised to call him with news of any progress, so his phone was next to him 24/7. Each day her chances of survival grew slimmer, and each day he went more and more out of his mind. On the fifteenth day of her coma, he went out and bought her the $2,000 diamond engagement ring from Tiffany's, which she had hinted at a few times. He brought it with him every day on his visits, and started practicing his proposal to her eerily still face. On the eighteenth day, her parents walked in on him practicing and backed out before he saw them. In the hallway, they teared up and talked quietly.

Twenty days had passed since the attempt at her life had been made, and he couldn't take it anymore. He had millions of dollars, yet they were useless. He had already paid for her to have the best medical care California offered. After his regular visit, he was driving home in the rain when a familiar car swerved into him. This car was swerving like crazy. The idiot driver didn't even have his/her headlights on! Suddenly, he felt himself fly forward. He had just been rear-ended by that crazy driver. Could his life get any worse? Every day he spent holed up crying at home, and he had thought about ending his life, but realized he needed to be there for her if she ever woke up. He felt the other car ram into him again. At this rate, he would be run off the road. Realization dawned on him. It said in the note that he was next.

Beep. Beep. Beep. As he regained consciousness, the heart monitor sound became annoying. What had happened? "Sir? Sir? Can you tell us what you remember about last night?" asked a man in a blue uniform. Was he...a police officer? Yup. There was the badge. An image flashed in his mind: a driver, probably a man (though he couldn't tell), in a Chevy Malibu. The car was familiar, though he couldn't place it. "Umm there was this crazy driver, and he pushed me off the road, and the letter..." he stopped himself. The police didn't know about the letter. He tried to reach in his pocket, but he discovered two things. First, his whole left arm was bandaged and attached to tubes. Second, he was in a hospital gown, not his jeans. "Sir, a letter?" prodded the police officer. He tried to think. "It's in my jeans. It has to do with the investigation about-" the police cut him off. "The investigation about the attempted murder of your girlfriend? Have you been withholding evidence?" suddenly the officer didn't seem so friendly. "Uhh...it's personal?" he tried. The officer shook his head. It was no excuse. "Where is this letter?" asked the officer. "In the front left pocket of my jeans" he informed the cop.

After the officer read the letter, his face turned pale. He pulled out his radio and left the room. A nurse came in and informed him that he could walk around the hospital for a little bit. He got up and visited her room. Her condition hadn't changed. A nurse walked up to him and said, "sir? Phone call for you" and waved him to the phone on a desk nearby. He answered. '"Son, look, I'm sorry about what happened to you. I'm sorry I haven't been there for you-" he hung up. He didn't care to talk with his father. Not now, not ever.

Several days passed before he was released from the hospital. Every day he visited her, and every day her condition was the same. One day, he got a call from the police. They found a lead and were investigating her old boyfriend. He recently was diagnosed with a condition where he needed to take whatever that pill was, so he had access to it. They had dated for about a year before she had dumped this guy (a Mr. Isaac Sulter) for him. Mr. Sulter was now out to get them both. The police had tracked him down and were interrogating him. So far, they hadn't figured out how he had a Ford Malibu, but the evidence was strong enough to take him in for questioning. The police promised to inform him of any arrests.

That night, her parents invited him out for dinner. They wanted to discuss the evidence, the new lead, his accident, and the note, as well as potential funeral plans. That last topic he didn't know about as he headed over to meet them. They had a nice conversation (well, nothing on that topic could be considered nice, but you get the gist) until they talked about funeral plans. When they got to that, he started crying, which caused them to cry. The waiter gave them a funny look. As it turned out, the doctors figured she might never wake from the coma so her family should plan a funeral for her and prepare a gravesite. After that, her dad paid the tab and they went their separate ways home.

A full month passed, signaling two months since the attempt on her life. Every day he visited her and every day the police searched for more evidence to arrest Mr. Sulter. At the two month marker, Mr. Sulter was on his way to a court of law while she was being checked out of the hospital and into the morgue.

Her funeral was a quiet gathering with an open-casket ceremony at the end. At the open-casket segment, he stopped and talked to her for a few minutes. He began to cry again, and a tear landed on her lips. As he started to walk away, her cousin - who was saying her goodbyes - shrieked. He turned back and looked happily at the moving body in the coffin. She looked down at her hand and smiled at the ring. She turned to him slowly and said, with a raspy voice, "I heard everything you said to me the past two months, and I wanted so badly to say 'yes'." He smiled and pulled out the ring, carefully sliding it onto her finger. Her dad rushed over and they talked for several minutes. Then her mother joined them and they spoke for several more minutes. After that, her father helped her out of her no longer needed coffin and led her to a chair and some water.

An hour later, police arrived at the scene to question her. She described a tall, skinny girl, with long blond hair and deep blue eyes. The police officer radioed in and asked for Mr. Sulter to be released on account of new witness evidence. Suddenly, he realized something. "Her name is Molly Inckleton and she drives a Chevy Malibu. Here's her number" he quickly offered to the police officers. "How did you know this?" one of the officers angrily inquired. "Well, she and I met at a party once...she matches the description and the evidence seems to fit. She even had a container of pills in her purse and the name was unpronounceable but I think it's the same pill" he said. The male police officer in the black trench coat was writing all of this down quickly. She then added, "this Molly girl had me at gunpoint when I answered the call from you! I tried to hint I was in danger, but I didn't think you got the message." Well that explains a lot, he thought to himself.

When Molly had been taken in for questioning, she immediately confessed to the whole thing. Her motive? She had been crushing on him for the longest time and wanted to get rid of her competition. When that hadn't worked, she tried to murder him, too. She said that if Molly and he could never be together, then he could never be with anyone else. She had even framed the victim's boyfriend. Once all of that was settled, Jenna and Eric had their wedding and moved into a nice, secluded, Tiffany blue mansion just like Jenna had always wanted. Their wedding was held in the backyard of Eric's parents' home (after he had made up with his father) and only included 45 guests. Their honeymoon had been two weeks in Hawaii as she slowly regained her abilities to live life normally. Jenna and Eric quit their jobs and went back to grad school, earning degrees in criminal justice and field medicine respectively. As for Ms. Inckleton, she was arrested on terms of trespassing, stalking, and two attempted murders.

Jenna's parents had a great respect for Eric, after all he'd done to help save Jenna, and his never ending dedication to his love. Four years later, as they went to visit their daughter, son-in-law, and newborn granddaughter, they recounted the tale of walking in on his practice proposal. This story moved Jenna to tears, and made little baby Anna unsettled. As Anna grew up, her parents taught her self-defense and recounted honorable stories of true dedication. Anna matured into a strong, fearless girl who had an obsession with Tiffany blue (and she became one of California's greatest detectives, just like her father).