She said, he said

'My oldest memories are of you', she said, quietly, reaching up to wipe a stray hair from his face, her green eyes misted by tears, lips taut in a feeble smile, and one tooth clamped down on her bottom lip in an unsuccessful attempt to stop herself from crying.

'I don't know what to do with that', he said. Then, more sharply: 'Look at me!'. "I told you how it was. You knew the situation. I'm trying to do what's right here, and it's not easy'.

No. It's not easy.

He reached his hand out to her and rested it on her shoulder, squeezing it. She did the same, and he grunted deeply into his chest. A deep primal expression of emotion, saying far more than words could. They stood in silence for a while, breathing quietly, in unison; eyes softly held.

And then he left.