I'm sorry, Sandy...

I don't know how it started. I only remember how it ended. Maybe that's what people call a broken heart.

I entered the room. I saw him sitting there with his eyes closed. I didn't know whether he was sleeping or not. I went straight to my room.

I cried silently. I knew I had to end it. I knew it was over even before I spelled the words to him. Maybe he knew it too.

I stayed at the room until 11 pm. Then I stood up, one leg stepped ahead. The door was opened. He was there, tears on his cheeks.

"I'm sorry..." he said.

I hugged him. I shook my head.

"I'm leaving tomorrow..." said I.

Then I left the next day with a huge desire to forget it all. He hurt me and my adopted little girl, Sandy. She was taken from my hand because of him.

Or, because of me? I'm sick, I can't deny. But she shouldn't have been the victim. My broken heart is nothing compared to her broken soul.

I'm sorry, Sandy...