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Peter could see her from a mile away. The light of the setting sun surrounded her like a halo. Dust and bullets flew and fell around her but she was untouchable. Gorgeous. Ethereal.
All at once the whole in his heart had left and he felt complete again, as though everything was right in the world. He knew it. Thanos had lied. She was alive. He knew that because here she was, battle-ready and as stunning as ever.
Her name left his lips before he even thought to say it, “Gamora?”
Gamora turned her head, her face contorted in confusion. No. No, that’s not right. Peter must have been seeing things wrong. There was a cloud of dust covering the battlefield from the gunfire, she was a little ways away and the ships overhead darkened the sky, he must just be seeing things wrong. She has to have recognized him.
She has to.
“Gamora, I cant believe it’s you!” Peter practically sobbed as he made his way to her. He had to touch her again, just to see that she’s real. He had to hold her and dance with her just one more time.
But as Peter made it through the rubble to the point where he was standing right in front of her, mere feet away, the confusion on Gamora’s face was unmistakable.
“I’m sorry,” she said, it was quiet, especially compared with the surrounding sounds of the battle, but he could read the words on her lips as clear as day. His world came crashing down. It was as though his heart had dropped through the ground beneath him.
Gamora’s words hammered the last nail in the coffin. Peter understood that the Gamora he knew was really, truly gone forever when she added, “but I don’t know who you are.”