Staying had been a bad choice.

She had loved him--still loved him--more than anyone she had ever met in her entire life. She would always love him, and he would always love her, and they would always be in love.

But it wasn't enough.

It wasn't enough, but she stayed anyways, and it had been such a bad choice. Freedom had been within her grasp, she could have had everything. Eventually, if he loved her like he said, he would have come to meet her. They would have been together, and had children, and grown old. He could be cranky on the porch and she could bring lemonade to her grandchildren.

But she stayed, because being away from him was too hard, so she couldn't go.

And that was her undoing.