She loved him. She could not help it. There was something about the way which he carried himself that drew her in from the start. He was nothing like she’d ever known; becoming a drug she stood no chance against resisting. But he didn’t need her. Didn’t want her. He had someone else waiting in the wings. Someone that in some twisted way, she had to believe that he loved, because that someone was his undoing. He had been so close. Just enough to briefly touch but not to keep. She was out of depth. He was out of reach. She played a game she didn’t quite understand and yet he was the one who lost.