She put him out like the burnin' end of a midnight cigarette
She broke his heart, he spent his whole life tryin' to forget
We watched him drink his pain away a little at a time
But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind
Until' the night

He had heard the news and it tore him apart. Ziva had accepted CI Ray's marriage proposal. He tried to remain calm when he heard but now home he broke down had a beer and sobbed. Then one beer turned into two, then three, and before he knew it he had finished a six pack and had to go to bed.

Ziva couldn't sleep; she sat up in bed while her fiancé slept. She thought Tony would be happy, and he looked happy, but anyone could see that inside he was hurting. She had thought about this and decided it was the right thing to do. This was her life, her moment, and Anthony DiNozzo's feelings regarding it were not going to sway her opinion.

As morning dawned on Saturday, Ziva hadn't slept. Her mind told her to go on with the wedding, but as the night had progressed her heart had gone from just worrying about Tony's feelings, to discovering unrequited feelings she had not found before. Did she love Anthony DiNozzo, or was he just a friend?

Tony never smoked, but now it seemed to be the only logical thing to do. His heart had been broken by the one woman he had ever truly loved, and the worst part was that it was all his fault. He knew he was in love with Ziva, and he was pained whenever he saw her with boyfriend after boyfriend. But this… this was marriage, this was real. There was no longer a chance for love between him and Agent David; ad without her love he had nothing to live for.

"I can't marry you!" Ziva screamed at Ray, they had been in this fight now for half an hour. She threw her ring at Ray's head leaving a small red mark. At this he got angry and lunged at her, but she met him with a punch. He stopped and stared at her. She walked out, shoes in hand not even on her feet; she had to go see Tony.

Tony would give Ziva five minutes. He sat on his bed looking at his watch and gun. He had given her time to come around, and now he couldn't take it. He took the last swig of his bottle of Jack Daniel's green label; it was the last bottle he owned. He threw it toward the others, and cried. Four minutes, it took him a long time to make his muscles work to raise the gun. Four minutes and thirty seconds. He breathed in a deep breath of sorrow, and yelled with everything he head, "I love you Ziva!" Five minutes