Our story thus far: Marissa and Garner had a beautiful wedding. Charles is almost ready to propose to Alina when she tells him they have to stop dating. Charles does not know what to do.
Charles Layton Crafton had never driven so fast nor so recklessly in his life. Alina, the love of his life, had just called and said words that chilled him -- "I'm afraid we're going to have to stop dating."
He couldn't understand it, didn't know what he'd done wrong, was almost afraid to go to her house to find out.
But he drove recklessly up her driveway, and parked his car right behind hers.
"Alina," he said, gathering her in his arms as she ran out to greet him. Tears marred her pretty face. "What is it?"
They went inside and she calmed down sufficiently to tell him -- her grandmother, who lived halfway around the world, was extremely ill, and needed Alina to come and care for her.
"Why do you have to go? Can't you send a nurse? Can't you just go visit, and then come back? Why would you give up your career? Are you really going to leave me?" the questions tumbled out of Charles' mouth before he could even think about them.
But Alina explained that she had to go, that there was no one else to care for her grandmother.
"You could come with me," Alina said later, quietly.
But they both knew he couldn't, and wouldn't -- he wouldn't give up his practice, give up his clients, as much as his heart longed to.
The weeks passed quickly, too quickly. Alina prepared to leave, put things in order at her office, packed up her belongings, and made the rounds of goodbye parties in her honor. Charles always accompanied her, though his heart was breaking and he didn't know how he could let her go.
Her last evening in town, he took her to her favorite Italian restaurant, plied her with her favorite wine, and they both tried to pretend she wasn't leaving in the morning.
After dinner, he drove her slowly to her half-empty house, kissed her lightly at the door, then drove back to the office, thinking at least he could do some work to distract him.
But he was sorry he had, when he found a note on his desk, tied with ribbon and a nosegay.
He opened it to read:
"I'm sorry, dear Charles, that it has come to this. I do not want to end our relationship, but I do not know how it can continue with me so far away. I will always love you and always miss you.
Yours, Alina."
He sat up late that night, sipping a cup of coffee and staring at a particularly fetching photo of Alina. Her eyes glistened in the sun, and the trees surrounding her were a beautiful shade of green.
He wondered how he was ever going to get along without her.
And once again, Charles was left wondering: Who named it love, after all?
