[ WP ] Write the most lovable character possible , then kill them in the most heartbreaking way .

Just last week, I remember her looking at me. Her soft smile made my heart jump a little, as it always does, and it makes me strive to do whatever I can with the hope that she may reward me with another. I saw the stars in her eyes; I have ever since I met her. She is both kind and aggressive, the kind of woman other women would strive to be. 
 
 She always puts others first, no matter the consequences for her. `` How can I expect someone to be kind to me if I'm not kind to them?'' she says. I remember one time, years ago, an older lady's puppy got away from her and ran out into the street. She saw that the lady did n't have the ability to chase the dog, so she did it for her. She promptly broke her leg when a car hit her. But the puppy was unscathed, thanks to her. I was horrified. Tears of pain streamed down her face, but she just laughed. `` Totally worth it,'' she said. `` But like take me to the hospital now,'cause I need medical assistance,'' she laughed again, `` and the look on your face indicates to me that you're not any kind of medical professional.'' A wordy quip, but it was effective. I was insulted and nauseous at the same time. 
 
 `` Incredible,'' I think to myself. `` What an incredible woman.'' Every single day. It did n't take long before I knew she was the one I would marry. I never thought I would meet the perfect woman, but she had appeared to me by what I can only describe as the grace of god, and I intended never to let her go. We started our new life together, and built a family. We were married two years when we had our first baby. As a mother, she has no fault. She was born for this. As our child grows, she effortlessly adapts. Stern enough to keep order, but loving enough for the love of our lives to remain happy and comfortable. I only wish I had her talent 
 
 Every day when I come home from work, she asks me all about my day. No matter how stressed or tired she feels, I am all she wants to talk about. I ask about her too, but she never really seems to want to talk about her life, outside our family. Or... she did n't. 
 
 I should have asked her. I should have pried. I should have taken more interest in her change in behavior. At the time, it seemed just subtle, the way she talked differently, the way she moved a little more slowly. Looking back I see it, clear as day. I do n't know how I failed to notice before. I failed her. I wish I had done more for her, to prove that I love her and that she is the most important thing to me, along with our daughter. I wish I realized what was happening, so that I could make sure she knew just how important she was. 
 
 Our baby cries, knowing that her mother is no longer there to comfort her. I try to ease her pain at least a little, but I was never quite as good at it as she was. I feel numb. When I'm not focusing on my child, I ca n't convince myself to move. My mind sees nothing but but the things I never did for my wife. I ca n't help but blame myself, even though they tell me that it's not my fault, that nobody could have known. I should have. 
 
 She used to say that she wanted to be a pilot, because flying through the air made her feel free. She always laughed when she recalled an airline pilot describe landing a plane as `` controlled crashing.'' So I understand why she chose to fly. The freedom of the fall would be the last thing she experienced. The uncontrolled landing would be painless. At least for her. 
 
 My mother tells me she knows someone who can `` help'' me. She offers to take care of the baby, in stead of my wife. 
 
 I do n't want her to worry about me. She has too much to worry about already. Instead, I ask her about dad. I ask about his improving health and talk to her about their new solar paneling. She asks how I'm doing, and I tell her I'm fine. I tell her about my daughters new words and how well she's doing with walking. I tell her that I'm thinking about moving to a new house for a fresh start. I do n't need her to worry about me, when she has so much on her plate already. I'll pretend I'm okay, and in time, I think, I'll heal, but I wo n't let her see that I'm broken inside. I'll come to visit her and tell her all about what her granddaughter's been learning and ask what she and dad have been up to. All they need to know is how much I love and care about them. I'll be okay. 
 
 I'll be fine.
