Do you hate me?

I remember everything.

Our first date, he took me to my favourite restaurant. Over a steaming pizza, we fell deeply in love. I knew I'd never be the same.

Our first time, he was gentle and caring. He touched me like one would with a butterfly and I soared in his embrace.

Our first apartment, he wanted us to live together. I was on cloud nine, always in his company. I''d never have to miss him.

Our first fight, he screamed with fury. Never had I heard such anger in a voice, his typically smooth voice was hoarse with rage.

I remember when he came back, crying. He apologized like no man ever had, and asked if I hated him. I told him I could never.

I also remember when the police first visited. They questioned us for hours about things I didn't understand. He held me and I felt that everything would be okay.

I remember when the police showed up again, breaking down the door of our home. They searched it all, throwing down everything without a care.

I remember finding a note on the refrigerator the next day. He had to leave, it said, to keep me safe. He also wanted to know if I hated him. I could never, I thought.

I remember the police coming back. They asked about him, wanting to know where he went. I wish I knew, I answered truthfully. Criminal, they called him.

I remember it all.

Our eyes meet and I know he remembers too. His gaze was always louder than his words. He missed me. I missed him too. I stare into his bright eyes turned dull. One thing weighs on his mind. Do you hate me?