A/N: Alas, another request. So sue me. This is in Randall's POV, because…well, because it can be. Dom, I'm apologizing in advance.
Love isn't supposed to die.
So then why am I at a grave site now?
Is it the idea of love that isn't supposed to die, or is it love itself? Love is a feeling, but it cannot feel. You know that love is there, but you can't reach out and touch it.
Let me tell you, this headstone is pretty damn solid.
This one has spaces for three people. There's just one missing.
I'm not saying that I would like to die. Honestly, there have been times that I would have welcomed death with open arms. It happens. Everyone has their low points.
But not as low as I've been. I know that I'm not the most unfortunate guy in the world, but no one, and I mean no one, deserves to go through what I've been through.
So what happened?
Let's just say that I'd rather relive the whole steroid issue about ten thousand more times than have what really happened running through my mind.
I loved her. Well, I still do, but…
I remember when I found out that she was pregnant. Sam was so happy. I was so happy. She always wanted to have a kid, and it made me swell with joy to know that I had given her that gift she so desperately wanted.
Sure, she had a rough pregnancy. Almost everyone does. I was always running around to get the foods that she was craving. It was no big deal to me. I just wanted her to be happy and healthy so that our child could be happy and healthy.
We wanted to be prepared for the child, so we opted to know the sex of it. We were having a girl. I won't lie; I was a bit disappointed. I wouldn't have my fourth generation Superstar just yet, but I might have a fourth generation Diva. Sam was ecstatic. She really wanted a little girl.
I really am a wonderful guy.
I thought that good people didn't deserve this kind of stuff.
The doctors said that everything was normal. Sam's mom called me with the updates. I was out on the road, so I couldn't be there.
I wasn't too fond of the last phone call.
Sam ended up having complications with the birth, and she ended up passing away.
Don't tell me that shit just happens in life. I won't buy that. Not anymore.
For once, Vince understood. He let me take the next flight back home. It was the worst flight of my life.
I still can't believe she's gone.
So, that left me without a wife, but with a beautiful baby girl. I swore to myself that nothing bad would happen to her.
This headstone was originally just for Sam.
Even though she was just born, she looked just like her mother.
I named her Samantha.
She grew up so fast. They always do, at least I've been told. She was so smart, too. I remember crying on her first day of school. I didn't want to let her go. I couldn't let her go.
I shouldn't have let her go. She was my baby girl.
And I only have myself to blame.
She was only seven.
I was out on the road. She was staying with her grandma, who only lived across the street from Samantha's school. I thought she'd be safe there.
My mother in law was waiting in the front yard for Samantha to walk home.
I feel so bad that she had to witness it.
I don't blame the crossing guard. From what I heard, he was doing his job. He walked out with his stop sign, halting traffic for the children. It was even a four way stop, so the cars had to stop, anyway.
They hit Samantha.
My little, precious, baby girl…The one girl I cared about more than anything.
She was all that I really had left.
I then decided that she should be buried with her mother. I'll go here as well when I die.
It's been two years since Samantha died. She was growing up so nicely. Her mother would have been so proud.
I know everyone thinks I'm a terrible guy, but I don't deserve this.