Three more days. Three more days till we move into the new apartment. I still can't believe this is happening. Of all the men I could have ended up with, I get a New York City cop? Talk about an unlikely pairing! And I never would have dreamed I could love anyone like I love him. That I could ever find someone I'd be so compatible with. Or that any man would ever love me the way he does. I guess there's still a part of me that feels like I don't deserve this.

I can't imagine my life without him. I don't think I could survive. There was a time when I would have scoffed at the notion of a love so powerful, so deep. Now I know it can happen, because I'm living it. Three more days. And then the rest of our lives.

Angie was daydreaming. She was off work today, and was watching the evening news. Thinking about her life and the events that had brought her to this moment in time. She was excited and nervous, full of joy but yet scared, knowing that she and Don were at the crossroads of a new life, one they would share, she hoped forever. Although they hadn't yet talked about getting married, it was something she wanted and she had the feeling that he did as well.

The weather segment was on, the guy talking about the warming trend in the area. It was mid-April and Spring was blooming all around her, in the flowers in Central Park and in the planters around trees on residential streets, in the warmer temperatures and strengthening sun. Things were growing, blossoming, including her relationship with Don, and she reveled in it, thankful for the blessing she'd been given.

She was suddenly snapped out of her reverie... something was happening on the TV... "breaking news..." she focused in on the screen. She could never remember everything that the reporter said. It was what she saw that would stay with her. An aerial view of a standoff of some kind. She heard the word "chopper". Someone in a helicopter was filming the scene. A hostage situation. A group of officers with guns trained on a house. The reporter's voice droned on. The photographer zoomed in on the cops taking cover behind police cars. She blinked, because her mind refused to register what her eyes were seeing. Among the cops was one that she recognized. It was Don.

A little scream escaped her lips. Marilyn came into the living room. "What's wrong honey?"

Angie had clapped a hand over her mouth, and with the other she pointed at the screen.

"What?" Marilyn looked at the TV. "Oh, my god, is that Don?"

Angie nodded. Marilyn sat down on the sofa beside Angie and took her hand. "What is it, a standoff?"

"Uh huh. The guy has his girlfriend hostage inside the house. That's out in the suburbs. What the hell is he doing out there?"

"Who knows? He's gone outside the city before. How long has this been going on?"

"I don't know. They just broke into the regular broadcast with it. I can't believe this. God, why couldn't he be anywhere else but there!"

"Angie, honey, this is his job. You know that. He does stuff like this all the time. It's just that most of the time you don't see it and he doesn't tell you about it because he doesn't want to worry you. You shouldn't be watching it. If this wasn't your day off you'd be downstairs, and he'd come home and tell you he had an average day."

Angie knew she shouldn't be watching, but there was no way she was going to stop. A myriad of thoughts tumbled through her mind. She wanted to be there with him, and somehow protect him from stray bullets. She wished she could teleport him out of there like they did on Star Trek. She felt like her heart was being ripped out, and she felt like half of herself was there, squatting behind a patrol car in kevlar, right in the middle of harm's way.

Suddenly the station switched back to the regular programming.

"NO! Now I won't know what's going on!" She felt a mixture of fear and frustration that made her sick to her stomach. Marilyn picked up the remote and turned off the TV.

"Marilyn, no! Turn it back on!" She tried to get up from the sofa, but Marilyn grabbed her and held her back.

"Uh-uh. No, Angie. There's nothing you can do. You'll make yourself sick."

"I have to watch. I have to be there with him."

"But you're not, honey, and you can't do anything to help him."

"But what if he gets shot?"

"Do you really want to see that happen?"

"Dammit, you have no right to tell me I can't watch!"

"It's my house. If I want to turn off the TV, that's my choice. Listen to me. I'm worried about him too, but your freaking out isn't gonna change anything. And torturing yourself watching won't do anything but make you sick and terrified to let him out of your sight, to let him do his job. You have no right to do that to him. You think he'd want you watching that? He'll be horrified to find that you saw any of it."

Angie started to cry. A few minutes ago she'd been looking forward to moving with Don into their new apartment. She'd been feeling blessed to have found this amazing man, and almost in awe of the bond of love between them. She'd been so happy...

And now she was terrified, sick with fear for him and angry at him for being in such a dangerous situation. She felt helpless and out of control, which was exactly what she was in that moment. Marilyn was right. There was nothing she could do to help Don. Except maybe pray.

Oh Blessed Mother, Great Goddess, please let him come out of this alive and unhurt. Protect him. Send him home to me. I love him so much, I can't live without him. Please don't take him away from me.

She tried hard to visualize Don safe and out of harm's way. She knew how powerful thoughts and beliefs could be. She pictured him coming home to her, the two of them embracing, kissing, sleeping together ...all is well, and he is safe...

She finally stopped crying, though she knew she was right on the edge of falling apart again. Marilyn got up and went to the kitchen, and came back with a glass of water.

"Here, drink some of this." She handed the glass to Angie.

"Did you put any booze in it?"

"No. Do you want a drink? It might help calm you down a bit. But just one, not the whole bottle." Angie nodded silently. Marilyn went to the kitchen again and came back with a little glass.

"What is it?" Angie asked.

"Does it matter? It's brandy. Drink it." Angie did as she was told, taking a sip of the amber liquid in the glass. She grimaced slightly. "This stuff is strong."

"Well, of course it is. Pour some of the water in it if it's too harsh."

Angie looked at the brandy, then shrugged and downed the rest of it all at once. She felt the potent liquid hit her stomach and warm her inside. She took a deep breath and tried to relax. She wondered if Don had felt something like this when she'd gotten shot. She felt the fear and the helplessness, and came to a realization.

Love has two sides. There's joy and pleasure, but there's also fear and pain. Loving him as much as I do feels so good, like nothing I've felt before, but along with it comes the fear of losing him. It's a balancing act. Part of loving someone this much is being willing to let go of him so he can do what he needs or wants to do, even if it's dangerous or sometimes life-threatening. The key is to make the most of every moment, never take anything for granted, never waste a chance to love him, and to let him know how much I love him. And never pass up a chance to let him love me, and know that I deserve the love he gives me.

"I'm gonna fix some supper. What do you want to eat?"

"Oh god, Marilyn, I couldn't eat anything right now."

"I knew you'd say that. Ok, I won't push you. You'll eat when you're ready." Marilyn went into the kitchen and left Angie alone in the living room. She was tempted to turn the TV back on but she resisted with an effort. She closed her eyes and again visualized Don here with her, safe and sound.

The phone rang.

"Could you get that Angie?"

"Got it." She picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey baby, it's me."

Angie felt a relief so intense that it made her feel dizzy. Oh thank you Goddess! "Don. Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, why?"

"I saw you on the news."

"Oh shit. You saw the standoff?"

"Yes."

"Those bastards in the helicopter. I knew they were filming. We couldn't get rid of them. Angie, I'm fine. It's all over, the guy's in custody and I'm on my way back to the city. I have a report to fill out and then I'm done for the night. You want me to come get you?"

"Yes, please."

"Alright, I'll be there as soon as I'm done. Relax sweetie. I'm ok."

"Ok. I love you Don!"

"I love you too. Bye."

Angie got up and went to the kitchen. Marilyn looked at her. "What is it honey?"

"That was Don. He's ok." She started to cry again. Marilyn put down the spoon she had in her hand and took Angie into her arms. "I'm so glad to hear that. Oh, honey, stop crying now. He's ok. Is he coming over here?"

"Uh huh. He's gonna take me home with him."

"I think that's a good idea. Now, can I get you to eat something?"