Chapter Text
The timing had been wrong.
Their timing had always been wrong.
Shanker pulled up to the church as the wedding party was spilling forth from the doors; women in matching pink dresses were cheering as the solemn-eyed bride and her dashing groom came out holding hands.
Cormoran watched her through the windshield.
There had been time, for a brief moment. There had still been time.
He got out from the car, standing with his hand on the roof, watching as the crowd milled about, the photographers snapping away. He watched her, something aching, indefinable in his chest.
He turned away. He did not see the moment her eyes caught on his hair, the set of his shoulders; he missed it, when her eyes brightened, shining with hope.
The photographer didn’t miss it. The pictures of Robin being handed into the car by her new husband were by far the best, the photographer thought. There was something in her face there that was missing from all the rest, a light behind her eyes that was otherwise dim.
She danced and laughed at the reception, putting on a good face, and didn’t find out about the phone message until later. Until too late.
Their timing had always been wrong.