The early morning sun peeks up over the horizon, spreading rays of orange-purple light over the Strip. After catching a Cirque du Soleil show and spending way too much money on casino slot machines, we're on foot, heading back in the direction of the hotel.

The mood is somber. Our respective fates await us and we both look toward the future with something far less than enthusiasm.

I’ve got his suit jacket draped around my shoulders. My expensive wedding dress looks like something that got left behind at the end of a swap meet and I'm limping in my scuffed heels.

Tony glances over at me. “You okay?"

I give a weak smile. “These shoes weren't made for trekking down the Las Vegas Strip at 6:00 in the morning."

With a crooked half-smile and dimples on full display, Antonio crouches down in front of me and pats his back. "Hop on.”

My own lips curl into a little smile. “Are you serious?” If he’s even half as exhausted as I am, it’s definitely not fair to accept his offer.

But his head bobs assuredly. “Hop on, Daisy. Let me carry you.”

And I don’t know why it means so much to me but that gesture fills my heart all the way up. He’s been propping me up all night, giving me strength when I was sure I didn’t have anything left in me.

We’re completely quiet as he carries me the rest of the way, my pouffy wedding dress spread out around my legs. I cling to him, knowing that soon he’ll be gone. But the impression he’s left on me won’t ever fade away. And when I go back to Copper Heights and I have to face the world, his voice will be in my ear. Forever cheering me on.

So, in the fading moments that we have left together, I focus on the strength of his back under my weight and the scent of his skin. I try not to think of myself back in Copper Heights, trying to find a new normal for myself. I try not to think of him, thrust into the grips of war in some foreign country.

I just focus on here and now.

There aren’t that many people in the hotel lobby at this hour. And, thankfully, we're alone on the elevator. The doors close and there we are. Him, tall, regal and dignified. Me, hanging off his back, looking crazy and dirty and absolutely in love.

Our eyes catch in the mirrored wall and we wear matching expressions. Sad, dejected, a little afraid. His eyes tell me he doesn't want to let me go. And I don't want him to. But some things are outside of our control.

When the bell chimes and the elevator doors open, he carries me down the hall to his room. And the second he gets me inside, he shoves me against the door and his mouth molds to mine. We tear at each other’s clothes, so much urgency in the way we’re touching. He pulls a condom from his wallet but I’m on him. I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop.

We’re kissing.

We’re touching.

We’re naked on the bed and we’re making love.

Yes, it’s frantic. Yes, it’s greedy. But the emotion is there. Real, raw, right at the surface. This isn’t just about our bodies. This is about our hearts.

I never knew it was possible to feel this way. And so quickly. With so much certainty. This is insane.

He tastes me. Long, slow strokes of his tongue into the heat of my mouth. His hands knead my breasts as his cock pistons through my channel and sensations fire throughout my system.

And when it all becomes too much, when it overwhelms the both of us, we explode together, clinging to the pinnacle of pleasure for as long as we can before floating back down together.

Satiated. Intertwined. Limbs locked together. Hearts beating in a steady, synchronized rhythm.

The next thing I remember is opening my eyes. Seeing him kneeled down beside the bed. He’s wearing his uniform, looking dignified and courageous. Staring right at me.

Reality slams me hard. I swallow, sitting up on the side of the mattress. “You have to go…”

His head bobs once. “I have to go.”

And this is heartbreak.

What I felt at the bar last night before he came up to me, that was child’s play. This feeling in my chest now as I’m saying goodbye to Tony, this is heartbreak.

He licks his lips, fighting against the emotions I see so clearly warring on his face. He slips a pile of neatly-folded pink fabric into my hands. “I got you some clothes from the gift shop downstairs. I'm no fashion expert but I figured you wouldn't want to do the walk of shame in your tattered wedding dress.”

I nod as I accept the clothes from him. “Thank you.” I blink down at the carpet. “You’re very thoughtful.”

He cups my cheek. "How do you feel?" he asks softly.

I lift my eyes to his. “Honestly?”

He nods.

“Like the world is ending." I try to smile but I just can’t.

His chest heaves as he breathes out. “Oh, Daisy…” He pulls me to his body and I bathe in his heat and masculinity. He holds me for a while but not long enough.

As we ease apart, I lift my eyes to his. Everything I find there is raw, genuine, real.

He doesn't want to let go, either.

Pressing my eyelids shut, I pucker my mouth against his for the last time. The breath that escapes him is rough and shuddering.

"Please don't die..." I whisper against his mouth.

He smiles soberly and presses his lips to the top of my head. "I'll try not to."

“Try really hard,” I plead.

I feel him nod against my head. “And you—don't go back to him. Okay? Find somebody who loves you. Find a guy who'll treat you right. A man who deserves you.”

My throat is tight and dry when I say, “I promise.”

He stands and walks toward the door, throwing one last glance my way. “Goodbye, Darla Mae."

I whisper around a shuddering breath. “Goodbye, Anthony."

He steps out the door. I sit there, my heart breaking.

Tears blur my vision but I can clearly see my engagement ring on the floor where he tossed it last night. It’s right next to the unopened condom wrapper.