A/N: I apologise for the delay in updating - but the last few days have been a little crazy and we just had high temperatures all last week (44°C during the day and 30°C at night). Anyways, I hope you enjoy this (last) chapter. I am trying to keep this as canon as possible, so this is my theory for why we don't see her visiting Sherlock. I am gearing up for a third story to round off this and 'I Still Need You' though, so watch this space :) Thanks for all the reviews/favourites/follows! xx

…
Don't know when I've been so blue
Don't know what's come over you
You've found someone new
And don't it make my brown eyes blue
I'll be fine when you're gone
I'll just cry all night long, say it isn't true
And don't it make my brown eyes blue
-'Don't It Make My Brown Eyes Blue?' Crystal Gayle
…

Molly hadn't wanted to believe it, but then nothing had gone the way she planned lately.

She'd finally broken it off with Tom and the next time she'd seen Sherlock he'd been high. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so angry.

So she'd slapped him.

Three times.

Once for him, once for her and once for everything he'd thrown away.

Then she'd heard that he'd been shot.

She hadn't thought about anything then, it had all been forgiven and forgotten in that horrible moment when she thought she'd lost him. Lost him without ever once telling him that she loved him.

She'd used her lunchbreak to rush over to the hospital, desperate to see him and to assure herself that he was all right.

But she'd been too late.

She had been there.

The bridesmaid.

The one she'd spent the whole of John's wedding day resenting; the one who'd eventually spurned her into action in order not to lose him.

She was talking to him with easy familiarity, she even kissed his cheek before she left.

Molly hadn't been able to face him after that.

She was too hurt, too angry and too ashamed for that.

She had loved him all this time, had even broken off her engagement for him and…for what? He'd never asked her to do that for him and now it was only too clear why.

He didn't love her.

She'd been living in a dream to even imagine that she might have finally – finally – had an iota of hope.

Seeing the newspaper headlines as she left the hospital had been the last straw.

She cried all the way back to work.