She didn't reply for a moment, trying to decide if she actually wanted to say this to him.
"Before last night. We... it was magical. Candles everywhere. And then he went to get water and..." She turned back to Damon, eyes focused on anything but him, trying to keep the tears welling in her eyes from overflowing.
"He'd left a picture of her out. An old tintype from 1864. It was on his desk."