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The photo looks worn, even on the bright screen of her laptop. It's ancient, just like she is.
And tonight she feels ancient.
Diana shuts the lid on the laptop and rubs at her eyes. Unsurprisingly, when she draws her hands back, they're wet with tears.
Years have passed since the night that Steve Trevor saved the day, sacrificing himself in the process, but the wounds are still there. The love, the grief, and the regret still linger, clawing at her insides everyday.
Diana closes her eyes, thinking of the feel of his lips against hers, how featherlight his touches were in the dimly lit room in the Inn. It's a night she’d relived a million times by memory, often falling asleep at night thinking of how it felt to fall asleep next to him.
But the memories of that night quickly turn into another night, one she does not like to think of. A night of darkness and war and death. The night Steve Trevor gave his life to save the day.
I wish we had more time. I love you!
Diana opens her eyes with a shake of her head, the echo of his words (words she hadn't even understood when he said them) ringing in her ears. It was the last sentence in their story, the story that was cut so cruelly short.
The wounds are only fresh tonight because of what happened with that abomination Luthor created.
Because of Superman’s death.
Because of Lois Lane.
Another story that ended too soon, that ended without a proper goodbye. One that ended with one man dead to save today, and one woman left to save the world.
She will attend the funeral, Diana thinks. Bruce emailed her the details, and she's already booked a flight to Smallville. To attend Clark Kent's funeral, while the rest of the world held vigils in Superman's honor.
Diana heads to her desk, opens one of the doors, and pulls out the watch. It's remained in good condition over the years and it still runs. She quickly puts it on her wrist before going back to bed, bouncing slightly as she falls onto the mattress.
She lightly traces the face of the watch with her index, slowly closing her eyes and allowing herself to fall into the memories of Steve.
She thinks of dragging him from the ocean, to seeing him awkwardly explain what the watch was, to the night they slept together in the boat. She thought of what it was like to hold his hand, of what it was like to kiss him. She thought of the anger she felt at him, and the disappointment. She thought of his clear, blue eyes that sparkled with tears as he explained that man was not always good.
She wonders if Steve ever knew how good he was. She regrets that she never got to tell him, that she never got to say I love you back. She regrets that she fought with him before he sacrificed himself.
But she can imagine what he’d say if she got the chance to tell him her regrets. He’d smile that bright smile and say, “ Maybe so, but does one moment ruin the rest?”
No, Diana thinks, it doesn't. It adds a certain bittersweetness to it, but it's no good dwelling on what ifs. She learned that long ago.
As for not being able to tell him she loved him…oh, he knew. Just like she knew.
Diana opens her eyes and looks down at the watch. Seconds tick by, reminding her of the here and now, and of the impending funeral she has to attend.
Not the first one she’d been to, nor would it be her last. But she always had a constant companion with her. One she wore on her wrist and held in her heart.
She would always, in some form or another, have Steve.