A/N: Hi all! Well this idea has been following me around for the past week and I really liked it. Unfortunately, the words are being stubborn and disobedient and (as usual) it just will not turn out quite how I envisioned it. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it.

-ooo-

Margaret harshly studies the face of the woman at the front of the church; in so many ways her opposite. She begrudgingly admits, to herself if no-one else, that she doesn't dislike what she sees. Hair as dark as her husband's but underscored with hues of red. Rich brown eyes that shine with intelligence and humour. A sweet face and graceful figure. No wonder he found her irresistible. Under the scrutiny of some of Hawkeye's oldest friends, Anna holds her head high. She is clearly strong. She would have to be. No other woman had succeeded in putting a ring on his finger. Margaret wipes an unexpected tear away. It should have been her seated in the front pew. It could have been her, if she'd wanted. He had always made that clear in his own way. Sure he had acted the scoundrel, always chasing the women and the booze. But deep down, he was really just a little boy. She had often called him childish, not every time meaning to insult. It had hurt her to watch that boy transform into a cynical young man with old eyes and grey hair. After the war he had written to her. Just once. A sweet, sad, hopeful little missive that reflected her own fears and dreams. She knew how difficult it must have been to send. But she had chosen her career over him. Over any man. Surrounded by people propped up by their loved ones, she begins to wonder why. When she goes home at night what does 'Lieutenant Colonel Houlihan' mean? It certainly doesn't keep her warm. Would she have been happier with this life? A doctor's wife in small town. She wipes away another tear. It is too late now. She will never know. Margaret can't escape the unanswered letter marked Crabapple Cove which she still keeps under her pillow.

Her heart stings with regret.