Vision paused at the door and smiled. He could hear Wanda inside, singing.

How was it that even after all this time, he missed her after being away all day?

He opened the door.

Wanda was sewing in the living room, singing along with the radio. She stopped and looked up when he entered. "Welcome home, my love."

"It is always so good to see you." He stooped down to kiss her before sitting across from her.

"How was work?"

"It was good, the usual."

She laughed.

He watched her sew, watched her hands move and the needles glow as her power flowed through them. He had always loved watching her hands.

When was the first time he noticed how beautiful her hands were?

"Wanda..." he said hesitantly.

"What is it?"

"How long have we been married?"

"A few years," she replied. "Why?"

"How long have we known each other?"

"A few years more than that. You're not getting tired of me already, are you?" she asked jokingly. Almost entirely jokingly.

"On the contrary. Every day, I feel I love you more, but I'm not sure how that can be possible. I'm trying to remember a time before I loved you, and I can't." He was having trouble remembering the day they met, or when they moved to Westview. He was sure there had been something before. "That isn't normal, is it?"

"Is this because of Agnes and her husband getting divorced? Just because they got tired of each other doesn't mean it will happen to us."

"Agnes said it was Ralph who grew tired of her."

Wanda shrugged. "But she didn't sound at all broken up about it when she told us, which makes me think the feeling was mutual. But just because it happened to them doesn't mean it will happen to us."

"True," Vision agreed. As fond as he'd grown of their neighbor Agnes over the years, he could not imagine living with her and not quickly becoming overwhelmed and fatigued. "However, I have heard that in lasting marriages, the passionate love of the first year or two transitions to a companionate love based on friendship, trust, and shared experiences."

"I think we have that."

"And yet every time I look at you, the love I feel is not one based on familiarity and security. I am overcome with amazement that I am married to you, that out of everyone in the world, I am the one you love. I can't imagine my life without you."

She paused in her sewing to look at him, and her expression seemed slightly melancholy. "Try not to love me quite so much."

That was startlingly far from what he had been expecting her to say. "Why not?"

"When you love someone, it can hurt. The more deeply you love, the deeper it hurts. I never want to cause you any pain or sadness. I only want you to love me enough that I make you happy. I would hate if loving me ever causes you pain."

"You do make me happy," he assured her, perplexed by her reasoning. "Every day."

She smiled at him fondly. "Good. I'm glad."

"Has loving me ever caused you pain?" he asked.

"No," she answered. "Never."

But there had been a very long pause before that never.