My first thought in mind when she asked for a dozen black roses was ebullient: We must be getting are vows renewed! But then I received a message in my office today with a bottle of wine. Signed, Your Darling Maris.

"She loves me!" I shouted from my chair, throwing my arms in the air. A few co workers gave me odd looks, and Juliet jumped from her desk. I kissed the bottle and set it next to her picture.

That was only the beginning. In the middle of a session Juliet came in with a small box decorated with a velvet bow. She said that the giver insisted I get it immediately. I peeked inside, and there was a silver Rolex watch lying the maroon silk. I shrieked with joy and even showed my patient. Once again, it was from Maris.

During my lunch break at Cafe Nervosa, the waitress slipped another box with my coffee. Enclosed was a golden fountain pen with the engraving of my name on it. The tag around it read, I love you Niles. I was astounded by its beauty, and promised myself I would forever cherish it.

I wished everyone at the office a goodnight, and drove off to the nearest flower shop. I knew black roses didn't exist, but that didn't mean they could have them specially made right? The lady at the counter was very polite about the situation, and for the amount of money I was about to pay her for them she promptly had them made in the back room for me. She tied a nice black ribbon around them, and put them in a gray paper wrapping. I went ahead and picked up a box of dark chocolates to go nicely with the arrangement, hoping she would like them.

"Oh I wish my husband was as generous and loving as you seem sir," the lady commented as I paid her. "I believe you're one of a kind. Any woman would be lucky to have you."

I gave her a friendly smile, and quietly exited the shop. I was so estatic to get home, I almost got a ticket on my way there for speeding. But the officer knew my father, and kindly let me off the hook.

I fumbled with my keys at the front door, my hands shaking with cold and excitement. All was dark when I got inside, except for a few candles lit on the grand piano. Everything seemed so still, so calm and relaxed. Not even the flames of the candles flickered. Softly, I called out her name like the song of a nightingale.

And there she was: She stood poised at the stairway, wearing her black satin robe and night gown; a particular favorite of mine. Her hair laid gently on her shoulders, and her eyes appeared to be glistening in the light. In one hand she held a book, entitled Weapons of the 20th century. The other, an empty champagne glass. I spoke her name once more, and she motioned over to me. Her angular-like fingers crept up my shoulder, giving me the chills. She whispered in my ear to get changed, that she'll be waiting downstairs. I tried thanking her for the gifts, but she put a finger to my lips. I handed her the roses and chocolates, and proceeded up to my room.

It didn't take long for me change; in 5 minutes tops I was walking back down the stairs with the bottle of wine she had gotten for me. She was was half-lying on the couch, messing with one of the black roses from the bouquet. I sat next to her, and poured her a drink. I glanced at her face, and I saw what looked like a smile forming at her lips. For all the years I have known her, I don't believe I have ever seen her smile the way she did this night. It positively lit up the entire room, even giving the moonlight a run for its money. I began to speak, but she put her hands into mine, and hushed me. She stared deeply into my eyes, nearly inflicting a heart attack to me, but then I saw something different. Like a side of her I've never seen before. Something that cried out passion. We stayed like that for what seemed like hours, only moving to drink our wine. I found myself thinking of how beautiful she looked tonight, and how much I wanted to hold her in my arms. She stood up, breaking my train of thought. Still holding my hand, she ushered me into the guest bedroom next to us, and we made love like we've never done before. I could feel my heart pounding from inside my chest, and I could feel Maris's too. Her heart has never beaten so vibrantly before, certainly not during intercourse. I stroked her hair from her face as she laid her head on my chest, and sighed deeply. She placed my hand on her stomach, and rested hers onto mine. I gazed out into the night sky, and smiled at the moon shining down on us.

"Niles, dear," she finally spoke, her voice trembling a tad.

"What is it love?"

"I have something....rather difficult to tell you." Her body quivered against mine.

I waited, not saying a word.

She drew in a breath. "I'm....dying."

And that's when it hit me.

The nice gifts.

The romantic gestures.

The love making.

Her last requests.

The next day I awoke, but she didn't. I held her close and whispered my last words to her ear.

I love you too.