He stands before the individual in front of him; he sees the images play around him. "Do it." The images melt away. There is a brief moment of agonizing pain. All of the pain in a lifetime, a hard lifetime, he feels it all for a moment. And then it's over. Everything is over.
/
He stand along the back wall. The woman he loves stands at the altar. She's beautiful. It hurts. Not as bad as what he once felt. But bad enough. His friend walks over to him.
"It's not fair that you're jealous. You had your chance. You had years of chances. She couldn't love you forever, not without you saying something."
He chuckles ruefully, but says nothing.
"You're going to ruin this for her."
"That's not what I want. I only want her to be happy."
"Then smile. Fake it if you have to. But whatever you do, don't let anyone else see the look you have now."
He steels himself for what is coming next. The moment he has dreaded. The moment that has to happen.
She says I do. It hurts him, but the sting is slightly less. He knew it had to happen. It had to be this way. He couldn't let it be any other way.
He walks to the bar and gets a bottle. He takes it to his room. He can't handle the merriment that everyone else is experiencing. He pours a generous amount of alcohol into a glass. He sips it. The burn is wonderful. It's a trade: a moment of pain for two moments of happiness.
The images play through his mind: A first date. They danced into the wee hours of the morning. Their first night together. A connection forged. Many innocent moments, laughter, and happiness. Not important in the grand scheme of life, but the moments that make life grand. Soft tender words spoken with love and caring. A promise to be always true and to always be each others'. He sees them all. Even if he hadn't lived them, he would know these moments. They haunt his dreams. He can't escape them.
/
He stands outside in the hallway. He is taking a minute to compose himself, a minute to let the mask fall into place. He opens the door. She's sweaty and exhausted, but she's never looked more beautiful to him. She's holding a newborn baby in her arms. She is alight with warmth and happiness. He has never seen her this happy. For a moment he remembers. For a moment he allows himself to dream. But reality comes crashing in when her husband, the father, walks over to her side and gives her a kiss. He says nothing, but inside is screaming, "Why?"
He smiles. It's a fake smile, but to the happy parents it looks genuine. He stays for a while. He asks politely to hold the baby. He looks down at the small human being in his hand and notices dimples and dark hair. But it's just a trick of the imagination. The baby's hair is blond, just like the father. And there are no dimples. He has to leave; he can only fake it for so long. He congratulates them. Later when he is home alone, he wonders how he survived.
But that was the deal.
/
She knocks on his door to his house. He's surprised to find her there.
"What are you doing here?"
"Can I come in?"
He hesitates a moment before stepping aside.
"What are you doing here?"
His tone is brusque. Her resolve falters. Truth be told, she's not sure what she is doing there. Not now. But she has to know. If she's going to be able to go forward, she has to know. He still holds her heart. One word and she will run away with him. Damn the consequences.
"This thing between us, is it real or is it just in my head?" Her words cut him to the heart. He knew why she was here. He knew what she wanted. He wanted it too. He wanted it more than she did. A lot more.
"What thing between us?" His tone is neutral, no emotion. He can compartmentalize almost as well as she can.
"Us. This underlying current of sexual tension. Do you feel it too? Or is it just me?" She takes a step forward, anxiously waiting for what she hopes, prays, and believes is coming.
He falters. He knows the answer he has to give. It's the biggest part of the deal. But for a split second he allows himself to dream, to dream and to remember. And then it's over, and he's back. And he makes the second hardest decision of his life.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I don't have any feelings for you. I see you as a friend, but nothing more."
His lie is convincing. Training as an actor, as a lawyer, and as a profiler have taught him how to lie. She buys it hook, line, and sinker.
She's stunned. She thought he felt the same way she did. She thought he would give her another option. She thought he just needed her to say it out loud. For one of them to acknowledge it. But it was all in her head. Like a schoolgirl with a crush, she convinced herself that he loved her. And now, faced with the harsh reality, she struggles to breathe. She stumbles towards the door in a daze.
He looks concerned, but once he see she is OK, he goes back to neutral.
"I have to go," she says.
He nods in response and she stumbles out the door. She doesn't go home. She drives aimlessly for hours. She eventually stops and sleeps out under the stars. Her world is a little smaller, and a lot sadder. She will marry another man. She will love him, she does love him. But he will always have a piece of her heart.
He stands stoically still. He's frozen in place – like a soldier at attention, a statue, a robot, not a person with feelings. He hears her car start and the floodgates break. He collapses onto the couch and cries. His sobs rack his body. He cries long into the night. He cries until there is nothing left. There is no comfort for him tonight. He doesn't drink. He knows it won't help. Nothing can help. He curses his fate. He curses his choice. Too exhausted to move he succumbs to sleep on the couch. He takes the next day off. He can't face her.
Not yet.
/
He stands in the hospital waiting room. He feels like he is going to explode. He is helpless. The woman he loves, the woman carrying his child, is in surgery. They've been together for two years. She is his everything. The light house that keeps him sane and on course in the midst of the darkness.
She was attacked. Raped. The doctors don't know if she'll make it. They were going to have a date. She was walking to the restaurant. He should have been there. He could have stopped it. He failed her. He failed their child. He punches a wall. The blinding pain is a salve. Something else to focus on. Something he can deal with.
It's hours later. He is sitting in an uncomfortable chair next to her hospital bed. She's alive. The baby is not. Her prognosis isn't good. Her eyes flutter open. He leans forward, "Hey." He infuses his voice with all of the love in his heart.
She smiles. It smile that is filled with pain and sorrow. "The baby?"
He doesn't have the heart to tell her. It's too horrible. He doesn't have to tell her, though; she can see it in his eyes. She breaks down and cries. The hold each other and both cry for their loss.
He tells her he loves her. He tells her it's OK. She's going to make it. He will be there every step of the way. They will have another baby. He needs her to fight.
But the death of the baby breaks her spirit. She can't go on. She has lost two children. She loves him, but she doesn't have the strength to fight. She dies a few days later.
/
He stands in front of her grave. It's pouring rain. He thinks it's oddly appropriate. He misses her terribly. He doesn't remember the service. He doesn't remember the people walking away. He stands there in the rain and weeps. He doesn't want to go on. But he has to. He wonders where he will find the strength.
"Would you give anything to have her live?"
"The voice startles him. He turns and sees a man standing behind him. The man is wearing an impeccable black Italian pinstripe suit. The rain doesn't seem to be touching him. It's almost like there is a barrier between him and the rain. The man speaks again, "Would you give anything to have her live?"
It's an impossible question. It could never happen. "I loved her with everything in me. … If it were possible. … I would give anything to have her live."
The man smiles and snaps his fingers. Suddenly they are standing in a large vaulted room. The room seems to have no end. The man is now standing off to the side. "You said you would give anything for her to live. It just so happens that I can facilitate that."
"What is this place? Who are you?" It couldn't exist. There was no way a room could be this big. It was a trick. None of this could be real. It's a dream. An illusion.
"That is not important to the business at hand. This is not a dream. This is real. In exchange for letting her live, you must make a sacrifice."
"What kind of sacrifice?" He would pay any price as long as she lived.
"She will live. She will have a long full life. She will fall in love. She will have a child. She will be happy. But she will do none of these things with you. You must never tell her you love her. You must refuse any advances she makes. And you can never tell her of our deal."
"You're saying if I make this deal she will live, but I can never be with her?" That stopped him cold. Did he really want to give her up? Could he give her up?
"That's right."
"Why would you do this?"
"Agony. A lifetime of agony. That is what you are signing up for. Your agony for her happiness. Do we have a deal?" The man offers his hand.
Images start to flicker around him. Her marrying someone else, he stands along the back wall. Her giving birth to her baby. Her coming to him the night she gets engaged. She wants him to give her another option.
"This is the cost of her living? The cost of her being happy?"
"This is my price. Do we have a deal?"
He makes the hardest decision he has ever had to make. "Do it." He knows it will hurt. He knows he will suffer. He knows he will probably never be happy. But still he makes the only choice he could make.
The man laughs. A menacing laugh. A booming laugh. A malicious laugh. A laugh that haunts him until the day he dies.
But she lives a full life. She's never raped. Her child lives. She's happy.
She got something out of the deal.
And for that he is happy.
A/N So I wrote this in a couple of hours. The story sort of took my muse hostage, and wouldn't let it go till it got out. I wasn't going to publish it. It's too sad for my taste. I am a huge fan of the happy ending. This world, the worlds I create, the worlds you create are my escape. A sad endings are a terrible escape. But my beta starofoberon told me I had to publish this. So here it is. If you're like me and this bummed you out and you were looking for a happy ending, you should check out my other stories. They are more me. That being said I would love to know what you thought of this story. So please review.