“Good-bye my Fancy! Farewell dear mate, dear love. I’m going away, I know not where, or to what fortune, or whether I may ever see you again. Good-bye my Fancy.
W.W.”

He sighed as he put his pen down and looked at what he had written on the table. As he walked away, he saw what was going to happen tomorrow: his girlfriend sitting down at the table, waiting for him to get there, and as he didn’t show up, she would look down at the message he had written and finally knew that he was never going to show up.
He hoped that she would always remember him and remember what could have been. He also hoped that she would eventually move on and make her own life. Maybe, if he returned, they may be able make a life together.
He walked outside to a black car waiting, got in and took one last look at the lit window of the one person who could keep him there, and also the one reason he had to leave.
While the risk existed, he could not stay.