Chapter 2

True love only comes once in a lifetime, so take it as it goes and enjoy every bit of it while it is still burning strong.

Anonymous

The Present

He'd watched tonight, melting into shadowy corners until the visiting was done and Beth slept soundly. On past occasions, her husband had been here. Mick's heart would twist enviously as the other man kissed and hugged her, balloons and well-wishes abounding, wondering at Beth's beauty and declaring his undying love.

The Past

Mick insists on dinner at the Fiesta Del Sol, refusing to let Beth's 40th pass without her favourite dish: mango-lime quesadillas. Usually, she dives into them enthusiastically, while he enjoys every mouthful vicariously through her blissful expression.

Tonight, however, she's distracted. Her food sits uneaten. Beth's baby blues have not met Mick's concerned hazel since the passenger door of the Mercedes was opened and her tiny hand was wrapped in his.

Across the table, he watches as she tortures a napkin somberly, twisting then shredding it into lavender confetti. "A penny for your thoughts?" he asks.

Beth looks up. "Hmmm?"

"You're distracted. Care to share?"

Beth smiles weakly, and says, "It's nothing," then gives her dish a couple pokes with a fork.

"Not into Mexican?"

"No," she answers glumly before her eyes drop to the floor, following the zigzag carpet pattern.

"If it's not good," answers Mick, "we could go somewhere else. There's that sushi restaurant you like." He'll do anything to please her. It brings him joy to make her happy. It's agony to see her so down.

Beth shakes her head, her eyes still wandering. They fix on a couple trying unsuccessfully to quiet their one-toothed toddler. "I'm just not hungry," she mutters.

"It's more than that. We could light the city with your energy most nights. It's why I love you. Couldn't light a lightbulb tonight, I'm afraid."

Lips pursing, Beth finally looks at him. "I'm fine, trust me," she replies sweetly, then takes a bite of a tortilla triangle dripping with hot, melted cheese. She puts it down, wipes her mouth with an extra napkin and gives him a saccharine smile.

"That's doubtful," says Mick. He grabs her chin gently. "Talk."

Her eyes fill with tears shortly after.

The Present

In the past, it took a long time before her husband said goodnight. When he was done making love to Beth, it was always late. But the hour wasn't what made Mick see red. There was a hot, murderous jealously, as the human fell asleep, his hand clutching hers.

Mick never came close. Not any birthday.

But tonight, it was different.

This afternoon, her husband had said goodbye with a quick kiss, off to catch his plane, leaving Beth to heal in the care of their daughter.

Mick jumped at the invitation, slipping into Beth's room soundlessly after Sarah and Anna went to bed. A flicker of movement and he was at her bedside. All that matters now is closeness, cold fingers caressing her warmth, icy lips brushing against the heat of her wrist.

Silently, he begs Beth to open her eyes.

But after what he's put her through, he's terrified to wake her.

The Past

Blubbering doesn't help. It's her father's number-one expression. Turners are strong. She is strong. Beth's given herself a minute of upset, and now she's done. "I told you I was having pain," she croaks out. "The doctor ran some tests."

Mick nods.

Her lip twitches, but no tears escape her big, glassy eyes. "Endometriosis. Looks like there's little chance of kids for me." She flashes a brave smile, putting on a Turner face. Not long ago, on a case, Mick had expressed his regret over never having a child. At the thought of never getting pregnant, there's a hollow ache inside.

Sighing deeply, she buries the uncomfortable feeling. Just pathetic pangs of biology, Beth reasons. I've never considered kids before. And I'll be damned if my body dictates what I want now."Doesn't matter," she continues with a shrug, "it isn't something I've thought about. I've got a great job and you. That's all I need. In fact, this makes things clearer. I've been thinking."

Across the table, Mick is dubious. He's sure he doesn't want to hear what's coming next.

Beth takes a great gulp of air, and says, "I know what I asked, the promise, but things are different. You're most important. And, aren't promises made to be broken? At least when circumstances change?"

No! "You said you'd never ask," Mick shoots back, his anger rising. The promise is coiled around the core of him. It drives him forward each day. "We're working on something," he tells her. With Coraline's medicine in short supply and locked away in Europe, he's hired his own specialists to look at the 'oddities' in his blood. They've poked and prodded him every which way. No one in the vampire community has any idea.

"Is it close?"

Mick doesn't respond, which gives her an answer.

Beth grabs his hand and kisses the fingertips. "Don't you see? We can be together. It would be simpler. You're not getting older, and I'm definitelynot getting younger."

Mick shakes his head. "I love you as much as always. You're beautiful, Beth. In case you haven't noticed, I adore you even more for—"

"My inner beauty. You tell me all the time, and it's wonderful. But, when I'm fifty and your still 'you' everyone'll be wondering if I've got big money with a boy-toy on my arm."

"You've never worried what people think. Who cares about them! Middle-age is hardly old. We don't look mismatched."

"Says the one with no crow's feet or laugh lines. I know it's shallow. It makes me sick, believe me. Who knew I'd feel this way. I'm not proud for begging. But ten years trying to find a fix…and nothing."

"You told me once that you wanted a little boy," Mick argues. "This diagnosis isn't the end of a normalfuture for you. I future I'd die for. You could adopt."

Beth pounces on his words. "We could adopt…as a couple?"

He shakes his head, sadly. "A baby in a world of vampires isn't a good idea. Besides, a child would age, I don't. People would notice—assuming we don't lock our bundle up or ship him off to boarding school. What about you…newbies aren't mommy material."

Beth has thought through the options, over a tub of strawberry ice cream or two. She'll be with him, whatever it takes. "Doesn't matter...a baby has never been on my priority list. Just you."

Mick crosses his arms. "Don't ask this! I'm working hard on a cure!"

"How many decades will it take? Like you said, you don't change, but I do. That's why I don't care anymore …I'm ready." She's set on this. Her tried-and-true hair dye can only do so much to stop the years. No surgery, no needles either, she's decided. She doesn't want a plastic face. Time needs to freeze, or things will change.

"You can't be serious!" Mick scoffs. "You've no clue about this life!"

"I'm absolutely serious," declares Beth. "Make me like you. The same. No boundaries."

Lips drawn in a tight line, Mick broods. It's a long while before he says, "Tell me something—and," he heaves a sigh, "I'll do it."