"No, I have a plan, but you must let me see it through," I beg him and look up pleadingly. His eyes look pained and even dimmer, but he nods softly and holds me closer. I reach to place my hand near his heart and see the nebula of stars are fading, their light ebbing away. Only then do I realize why they are fading, because the story is all wrong. It's not the heart of his bride-to-be, it is his own broken heart and it's dying because he doesn't need it anymore. He's found a stronger, newer love.