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James clutched the bottle of whiskey to his chest, tears streaming down his cheeks.He used to hold her like this.Cradled in his arms, her naked body pressed against his, enjoying the afterglow of their lovemaking.Raising the bottle, he took a long drink.He’d never hold her like that again. Never make love to her again.James closed his eyes, willing the medication to work faster.He’d failed to protect the one person he loved more than anything; his soul could not handle the pain.Death would be life.She’d be there.The bottle fell to the floor.