Sara raised the poker and slammed it into him again. Then she held it up above her head like a sword. Michael lay looking up at her. 'His Sara' was really gone. He held his hands out to try to stop the blow, but when she brought the poker down it went straight in to his heart.
Michael gasped and sat up in bed, his body covered in sweat.
He sat there with his heart pounding in the darkened bedroom trying to control his breathing. He looked over at his peacefully sleeping wife, telling himself it was just a bad dream. She had been at the emergency room that evening with a little spotting, but the doctor said she was fine. She just needed to take it easy for a little bit. Michael figuring his worry had caused the crazy dream, wiped his face on the bed sheet and lay back on the mattress. Sara beside him stirred a little and moaned in her sleep. She was sleeping on her side with her face turned away from him. He slid closer to her and put his arm around her, resting his palm on her pregnant belly. She moaned a little and then waking up, said, "Michael"? "Yeah"? He said burying his face in her fragrant hair. He loved the smell of her. "Is everything ok"? She asked yawning. He looked at the clock, 3am.
"Yeah, just a bad dream, Sara, but I'm ok", he said kissing her shoulder. "Mike"? She said. "Yeah"? Michael said. "I'm hungry", said Sara. And Michael just laughed.
THE END