[ WP ] : She now has the chance to fix her ruined life by going back to the decision that caused it . For some reason that moment was when she was asked `` What flavour do you want ? '' at Baskin Robbins .

I can see it when I close my eyes. Yesterday: the perfect day. I was so nervous driving to your house. My hands were trembling on the car wheel and I forgot how to breathe. I don ’ t know why I was so jittery. You have so much warmth in your eyes whenever you look at me. Being with you- it just feels right. With you, all those sappy clichés make sense. When I look into your eyes and see all that trust and care in those baby blues, I am home. But there I was yesterday: nearly at your house and sweating bullets even though warm colored leaves painted the ground all around me. Of course I couldn ’ t pick you up in that state of panic. One little frown and you ask me if anything ’ s wrong. You always want me to be happy. It ’ s one of the reasons why I love you. But I was not prepared to make excuses yesterday. You know how I can ’ t lie. 
 
 I barely remember stopping at an ice cream store, talking to myself in the bathroom mirror, splashing water on my face, and picking up a little vanilla cone on the way out to calm my nerves. I must have looked ridiculous acting like a chicken with her head cut off while ordering ice cream. I do remember picking you up, you looking so cute in that brown vest I got for you last Christmas, your honey brown hair strategically disheveled in a way that made my heart beat just a little faster, your smile of utter contentment. I remember driving up that rocky road to the hiking trail, tripping on the tree branch on our hike- I was so scared the box was going to fall out of my pocket and ruin the surprise, but it didn ’ t. I remember you laughing and pulling me back up and us laughing together and holding each other close and me hearing your heart beating just a little bit faster. 
 
 You pulled leaves out of my hair, swept the hair from my face, and looked at me. The breeze rustled the leaves and swept the earthy smell of soil through the air. It was clear skies, the perfect day. We were alone together. My stomach had been reenacting a washing machine cycle all through our hike, but now a strange tranquility washed over me. All was right. I got down on one knee. The leaves crunched under me as I shifted to pull the box from out of my pocket. I will never forget the way your face lit up like the heavens itself opened up to you. You being your silly impatient self said “ yes ” before I could even open up the ring box. I couldn ’ t help but let out a squeal. All those nerves and jitters I had beforehand converted into more bliss than my little body could hold. I cried. I think you did too. I couldn ’ t see very well through my tears. You said “ I love you, ” and drew me in to a warm kiss. I closed my eyes. That was the happiest moment of my life. I was home. 
 
 The walk back was like floating on clouds. Nothing could ruin this moment. We went home, told our family and friends the news, and ended the night curled up in each other ’ s arms as the fireplace warmed our cheeks, more than ready to spend eternity together. At least, that ’ s how I imagine it would have gone. 
 
 I ’ m looking at your eyes now. They ’ re cold and distant. Your gaze spears my heart and twists it for extra blinding pain. It hurts so much I forget how to breathe. At least I can ’ t see you very well through my tears. I ’ m sorry. It ’ s all my fault. 
 
 I wish I didn ’ t remember you pull away from our kiss yesterday. How your beautifully molded face began swelling as we walked back. Your squealing gasps like a fish out of water. The Epipen for your almond allergy that we left in the car at least a mile away from us. I wish I had remembered that the ice cream cone I got wasn ’ t vanilla. It was Rocky Road. 
 
 I remember you, lying in the fallen leaves with your head in my arms as you tried to say “ I love you ” with your last breath. How I said “ I love you too ” to a warm, unresponsive dead body. This body that is now cold in front of me. I hear a raw wail echo through the room and hardly register that it ’ s my own. My limbs weigh down on me like gravity has doubled. I can ’ t bear to look at you- at it lying there on the slab. I close my eyes. 

