Eric called on the radio every night after dinner. I could tell he missed his daughter horribly, but said there was lots of work to be done at Simon's outpost. I held the walkie-talkie up to Abby during every conversation so he could hear her coo or cry, and he listened intently, as if he was hanging onto every single sound she made. I reassured him she was well, though the little one was certainly keeping me on my toes.

One night when he called, I put Abby back in her crib and sat down on my bed, clutching the radio in my hand. I hated that I didn't get to see Eric every day. Now that Amy was gone, I found myself opening up to him and looking forward to his daily calls. Negan was busy leading the Sanctuary, and Vivienne had her garden to work on. Although I was in a huge community full of people, I somehow felt very alone.

"You okay?" Eric's voice came through and I pressed the talk button quickly.

"Yeah, sorry…" I mumbled, rubbing my eyes. "I'm probably just tired."

"Well I hope you know I appreciate everything you do for Abby. She's lucky to have you." Eric's voice inflected a bit, hinting there was something else on his mind. I paused a few seconds and then replied.

"How are you holding up?"

Eric sighed into the radio and then let out a dry chuckle.

"I don't know. Sometimes I wish I hadn't come here. There's some… interesting people here."

"What do you mean?"

He didn't answer right away and I pressed on.

"Eric?"

Static came through and then he spoke.

"Some of the men have pictures hanging up of these brutal murders…. like gore and blood. It's disgusting, but I think it's people they've killed. Or I think, it's people Negan's killed."

"Why would they do that?" I asked, ignoring the chill that was running through me. My mind instantly brought me back to the hallway outside of the principal's office where I listened to the sound of Derek's head being crushed.

"I don't know. But Elle… Many of them look exactly like when you bashed Adam's head in. They display them like trophies. I'm not sure we're on the right side here…"

I knew Negan could be cruel with his punishments, but I'd never witnessed first hand how he handled his communities. I remembered the first time we met him and how he'd said he usually beat someone to death to prove how serious he was. He'd showed us mercy, but Eric was looking at photo proof that others weren't so lucky.

"I'm not so sure there is a right side anymore," I said, trying not to picture the bloody sight of Adam at my feet.

How could I possibly judge Negan for bashing in someone's skull when I had done the exact same thing?

After Eric said good night, I took out a stack of notebooks where all the points had been tallied for the day. It was a meticulous job, but I was glad Negan was willing to let me work. As I scanned over the many names listed and the points earned, I double checked math to make sure no one was cheating the system. Not that the system itself was fair to begin with.

Negan's Saviors didn't have to work for points, only the members of the Sanctuary. His Saviors were allowed to take whatever they wanted, and this caused a bit of a problem with keeping track of items. Where one person might have to save up weeks just to earn a desired new piece of clothing, a Savior could just go to the marketplace and take it.

I approached Negan about the issue on the first day of my new job, suggesting that if the Saviors also worked for points and we kept everyone on the same standards, it would be more fair. He brushed me off as he went into a meeting and told me 'nothing is fair anymore'.

A few days after I'd started counting points, the whole Sanctuary was buzzing with talk that the people who'd stolen medical supplies had returned to beg for Negan's forgiveness. They said one of them didn't make it, but the married couple didn't want to chance surviving out on their own. I had thought it was just rumors, but then Negan called a meeting for the entire Sanctuary and announced there would be a public punishment that evening before dinner. Attendance was mandatory.

During lunch, I saw Vivienne sitting at a table eating some rice and vegetables. I had to give it to the cook—they knew how to make good grub. The Sanctuary members were kept well fed, and because of Vivienne's hard work, they'd been able to incorporate more produce in their meals.

Setting my plate down on the spot in front of her, I smiled.

"Hey stranger," I said. She glanced up from her fork and looked confused.

"Hey, Elle. Where's Abby?"

"She's with Frankie and Tanya," I quickly explained. Negan's wives had offered to watch her any time I needed a break, and although any interaction with them made me uncomfortable, I was grateful to have a few minutes to myself. "Mind if I join you?"

Vivienne gestured for me to sit, and as I did, she took a bite of rice.

"How are things with the greenhouse?" I asked. It felt like forever since I had gotten a chance to speak with her. She was always working her ass off.

"Very good. We've got plenty of seeds, and soil is good. We gotta make sure we keep things watered. I certainly have lots of room. We're not just using the greenhouse. Negan's got me planting things everywhere."

Vivienne seemed very proud of her work and I grinned as she talked. I was happy to see that, much like her garden, she was flourishing here.

"That's great, Viv. I know he appreciates it."

"Would help if some Saviors would stop plucking food from the vine before it's ripe. The tomato plant I grew last time we were here has been completely raided. Thankfully one of those brutes didn't eat the seeds and was wise enough to keep them."

"I talked to him about that, but I don't think Negan's willing to make changes," I said, taking a bite of my rice. Vivienne shook her head.

"No, it's fine. The Saviors work hard to keep us safe. It's just a plant…" She avoided my gaze and I reached out to touch her hand.

"Vivienne, what's wrong?"

A nervous smile painted her face and she fidgeted with her hands.

"Nothing. I'm fine. I'm just trying to mentally prepare for tonight. That's all."

I didn't understand at first, but then I remembered Negan was going to punish the thieves.

"You don't have to go, Viv," I said in a low voice.

"Of course I do." She looked shocked that I would suggest such a thing.

"Well I'm not going."

"You have to!" Her voice raised and she stared at me appalled. "He has to punish those who screw over the rest of the community!"

I stared at her wide eyed. Seeing her get so defensive over Negan was off-putting and I frowned as she watched me sternly.

"Why are you suddenly drinking the kool-aid?"

"It's how it has to be, Elle. I know it's not great, but without order these people would just take whatever they want all the time. It would be mass chaos. There has to be punishments when people do something wrong." She swallowed hard and lowered her voice. "We don't have to like it. That doesn't matter. But we have to respect the system."

I could have argued about it more with her, but I could already tell her mind was made up. Perhaps it had been the trauma of losing Amy and Ryan, or maybe she truly believed what she was saying. Either way, she was more than willing to play by Negan's rules.I wasn't as agreeable to his violent nature, and refused to accept it.

We ate the rest of our lunch in silence. Afterwards, I left Vivienne in a hurry, storming off to head for Negan's bedroom. I pounded on the door a few times, and when no one answered, I decided I would check the main floor. As I entered the stairwell, I was met with the sight of a woman who was puffing on a cigarette and leaning up against the wall.

She was pretty, with medium-long, soft brown hair and she had a thin build. My eyes went from her face to the tight fighting black dress covering her form. I stood there gawking at her as she took me in and then moved out of my way so I could head down the stairs.

But I was frozen in place, unable to look away from her.

I glanced down at the heels I knew would be strapped to her feet. She glanced away, as if she was hoping I would just go on and stop blatantly staring at her. I felt like throwing up, but I pushed past the sick feeling and walked down the steps, doing my best to ignore the woman that was still smoking against the wall.

Negan had taken another wife.

When I came to the main floor, I could hear a deep voice talking to someone, demanding they hurry up. As I crossed the room, I noted there were four armed Saviors standing guard nearby him and a few more up on the catwalks. They peered at me over the yellow bars as I made my way to Negan.

At the center of the room, in front of a fire pit, there was a man sitting in a chair with his hands tied behind his back. He had stringy blonde hair that was pulled back into a ponytail and light-colored facial hair covering his upper lip and chin. He had a look of utter defeat; his head was hanging down and he appeared totally hopeless. Negan was staring over the shoulder of the Savior working the fire pit.

"Having trouble igniting the flame, Fat Joey? Bet you can't get it up either." He teased the man.

"Negan?" I called out, hearing the irritation in my voice. He turned and looked back at where I was, completely unaffected by my tone.

"Hello, Elle." He greeted me nonchalantly, as if there wasn't a man tied to a chair only a few feet from us.

"This is wrong," I stated, loud enough so I knew everyone in the room could hear me.

"You know full well this is how we do things. Besides, this fucker's lucky to be alive." He gestured to the man in the chair who wasn't even acknowledging us. As much as I pitied the man awaiting his punishment, it wasn't why I had started this confrontation.

Taking a step closer to Negan, I lowered my voice.

"You took on another wife?"

Negan's cocky visage didn't crack and he shrugged. "It doesn't involve you."

"Like hell it doesn't!" I exclaimed. My raised voice seemed to take the stringy haired man off guard and his head shot up. Glancing down at him, I noticed he was watching me, looking distraught.

Then I realized it wasn't my loud outburst that had affected him.

"There was a woman in the stairwell… She was smoking. Is she your wife?" As I spoke, he glanced away, trying hard not to meet my eyes. I took a step towards him, hoping to get him to look at me, but Negan stepped in my way, blocking my sight of the tied up man.

"This doesn't fucking concern you, Elle."

I attempted to look past him, but the man was squeezing his eyes shut and had his head tilted down. I hadn't thought he could look more miserable, but after learning about his wife's fate, he became even more dispirited.

Looking back up at Negan, I scowled at him.

"You're so full of shit, you know that?" I snarled. "You said you married those women to protect them. This is just heartless."

"Sherry offered!" Negan said, unaffected by my words. "And we haven't made anything official. She's just trying on the dress. Making sure it hugs all the right places." Negan's eyes went over to the man in the chair and he waggled his brows mockingly. "She begged me not to kill Dwight here, but I think she just wanted to know what it's like to be with a real man. Well now she knows."

As he spoke, I knew he was trying to upset Dwight, but in his efforts, it was as if he'd forgotten I was standing with them. My eyes widened as I absorbed what he was saying.

He'd slept with this woman.

So many emotions ran through me in the next few seconds. He had already told me he was still sleeping with his other wives, but learning he'd taken on a sixth was like a punch to the gut. I stared up at him as he continued to ignore me to continue and taunt Dwight.

And I saw red.

Reaching up, my hand connected with his face as I slapped him.

The sound echoed throughout the room. Within a fraction of a second, his men raised their guns and aimed them at me. I didn't care and glared up at Negan. His head was turned to the side from the force of the slap and he reached up to touch his face. Then his eyes went to me. Where I thought I'd see fire I saw genuine confusion.

He looked past me at a Savior that was pointing his weapon at my head, and only then did he become angry.

"Put those things down!" he shouted. As his men lowered their weapons, I continued to scowl at him through tear filled eyes. I wanted to yell, but I couldn't find my voice. I felt so exposed standing in front of all of his men that I suddenly felt very trapped.

Turning from him, I went to step away when a Savior blocked my path. I froze, meeting the man's gaze. We stared each other down for a few seconds before Negan cleared his throat.

"Let her go," he ordered.

I didn't look back and rushed out of the room. Going outside, I saw a supply truck had just pulled up into the yard and that the gate leading into the yard was open. Sprinting over to the truck, I got into the driver's side and found the keys were still in the ignition and the engine was running. I heard shouting as I put the truck into drive and stepped on the gas. Within seconds, I was speeding away from the Sanctuary.

Fuck him.

I squeezed the wheel and glared out the windshield. Of course he would take on another wife. Why wouldn't he? It's not like we were in a relationship. Sherry was a beautiful lady—they all were. Negan was like a king in his castle and he got whatever the fuck he wanted. Hell, even Vivienne was totally on board with his games now. She'd probably make an argument for him on why he needed multiple women to fuck.

I'd almost driven for an hour, flying down the road and getting more upset with each minute, when the truck started to slow. I furrowed my brow in confusion as it came to a halt in the middle of the street. Glancing at the gas gauge, I let out a frustrated sigh. It was empty.

"GODDAMMIT!" I yelled, slamming my hand on the steering wheel multiple times. Tears welled up in my eyes as my anger boiled over. It was like the straw that broke the camel's back—I had been so focused on getting away from the Sanctuary that I hadn't stopped to think what I was doing. Now I was stranded out in the middle of nowhere.

Except it wasn't nowhere.

Studying my surroundings, I realized I knew exactly where I was. The familiar signs made me feel a little better that I wasn't miserably lost.

Leaving the keys on the seat of the truck, I hopped out and shut the door. I figured Negan's men would retrieve it sooner rather than later. Checking around to make sure there weren't any nearby walkers, I continued making my way down the street.

It took about an hour of walking, but eventually I came to a road I knew all too well. As I made my way down it, I heard a strange sound. At first it was far away, but the more I walked, the closer it got. Every few moments there was a sharp ringing noise, as if someone was banging on metal. I knew it couldn't be walkers, and was too curious for my own good. Stepping off the road, I chose to walk in the trees and creep forward, seeing the wall that wrapped around the school. I got as close as I dared, and then hid behind a tree to see what I was hearing.

It didn't take long to figure out someone was trying to mend the gate. As the banging noise continued, I waited patiently and wondered if I should approach. Perhaps Negan had sent some of his men to fix the school for me?

When the gate swung open to reveal the person patching the broken metal piece, I stared in surprise. Charlotte wiped at her sweaty brow and tested the gate to make sure it moved properly. I remained hidden, studying her from a distance. She looked exhausted; she was clutching a hammer in her hand, and after opening and closing the gate a few times, she went back to trying to fix the latch.

I noticed there were a few walker bodies laying on the ground near the gate, and wondered if she'd had to kill them due to the noise. I also couldn't help but wonder how she would react to seeing me. I was happy to see she was alive, but knew she hated me for what happened to Derek.

I watched her work on the gate for a long time, debating if I should reveal myself or not. I wanted so desperately to talk to someone and wished we could go back to the day we'd met in her treehouse. It had felt good to open up to someone—to talk to a person with an outsider's perspective. But Charlotte wasn't that person anymore, and she'd never want to talk to me. Not after what I did.

Eventually, the gate was pulled closed and Charlotte seemed content with her work. Locking the metal into place, she gathered her tools and returned to the school building. I placed my hand on the bark of the tree I was leaning against and started to cry as I looked at the gate.

Doveport wasn't mine anymore.

It only felt fair Charlotte should inherit it. She deserved to have a safe place to call home. It would never be enough for taking her brother away from her, but it was a start.

As I tried to collect myself, I realized Negan was wrong. His way wasn't the only way to survive in this new world. There were still good people making a living—still better ways to handle things without burning faces and bashing in heads.

Charlotte was proof of that.

Doveport was still proof of that.

As the sun set, I eventually left my place hidden in the trees and headed back down the road. I didn't have any food or water, and my sore stomach and dry mouth were already a sign this trip home would be hell. It would take me all night to walk back, and that was if I didn't run into any problems.

Sure enough, walkers began to catch sight of me and followed me down the road. I walked briskly, keeping ahead of the threat. There were only about five of them, but I didn't want to waste my energy killing them off. As long as I moved fast, I could keep good distance from them.

If only I could have stolen a truck with a full tank of gas.

Two hours later, I'd made little progress. The sky was a deep pink and orange, and I was panting in the Virginia heat. The group of walkers had tripled and was fast becoming a serious threat. I couldn't stop, although my feet were already sore and tired. I mentally kicked myself for putting myself in such a stupid position.

The sun had barely disappeared on the horizon when a supply truck came speeding down the road. I watched as it flew past me and did a U-turn, only to pull up next to me and stop. I looked through the window to see Negan peering out at me. As we stared at one another, I glanced over at the hoard of walkers that were quickly closing the distance. I really didn't want to have to suffer the awkward ride, but it beat becoming a snack for the dead.

Getting into the truck, I pulled the door shut and Negan hit the gas. We sped away from the group of walkers and I watched them disappear in the rearview mirror.

"Here." Negan held out a water bottle to me and I took it from him. Not caring how it looked, I chugged the water gratefully, finishing half of it within seconds. Negan watched me out of the corner of his eye, but I ignored him and turned to look out the window. We spent the remainder of the car ride in silence, though I could tell he was itching to say something. I wished he would have just sent one of his men to fetch me.

We reached the Sanctuary and Negan parked the truck near the entrance to the factory, but didn't get out. I placed my hand on the door handle just as he began to speak.

"I want you to come up to my bedroom…" His voice was stern, as if he wasn't asking. I didn't look at him.

"Why don't you just have Sherry do it?" I muttered, opening the truck door.

Negan got out just as I did, but he slammed the door shut so loud it rocked the entire truck. Rolling my eyes at his childish behavior, I headed into the Sanctuary. I decided I would let him lecture me in the hopes I could go to bed and get off my aching feet.

As we walked down the hallway, I glanced into my room to see Tanya was holding Abby and sitting on my bed.

"Oh, Negan!" she said, standing up. "I just-"

"Not now," he barked, ignoring her big eyes and entering into his bedroom. I gave her an apologetic look and then followed him in. I had stormed off and left Abby behind, and Tanya had become responsible in my absence. I never planned on abandoning her, but knew that if Amy was still alive, she would be furious with me. Not because Tanya wasn't capable, but because I had promised her I would watch over her child.

Taking a deep breath, I closed the door behind me and then faced the beast.

"That little fucking adventure you went on could have gotten you killed!" Negan bellowed the second the latch clicked. "I know you're pissed off about the whole wife situation, but I can't have you disrespecting me in front of my men like that."

"Fine. Anything else?" I gave him a scathing look, hoping to cut this short.

"What the fuck has gotten into you? You've been acting so fucking cold ever since you moved here!"

"I'm sorry I'm not a ray of sunshine. I'll be sure to work on that." I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's not like I just watched my friends die or anything. Oh, and I just love looking at this growing collection of women you're accumulating!" I gestured in the direction of the parlor room. "It fucking kills me that you'd take on another wife. You said before that you hated having to drive to Doveport, but now I'm here, and you're still sleeping with them. It was never about the distance. You're just fucking selfish!"

"I was trying to do the right thing!" he shouted. "Sherry's sister, Tina, needed meds. She was fucking diabetic, and couldn't afford insulin. I offered for her to become a wife so she wouldn't have to work anymore, but she didn't like that either, and instead chose secret option C. The three of them robbed us and fled. She died out there, and Dwight and Sherry realized they fucked up. I was going to kill them both, but Sherry is practical. She didn't want me to kill Dwight, so she offered to marry me."

"But you could have said no!"

Negan let out a sigh and shook his head. "What's done is done. It doesn't change the way I feel about you…" He was shifting gears; his tone becoming soft. I looked away and scoffed, disgusted with him.

"Oh, just stop, Negan."

"Fuck, Elle! It's not like we're fucking married!" he argued.

He was right—we weren't committed to each other, but that remark caused me to wonder about something…

"Did you sleep with other people when you were with Lucille?" I asked suddenly. As I said her name, Negan's hardened features cracked and he became confused. Then my words sunk in and a look of guilt spread across his face, giving me my answer.

"What the fuck does that have to do with anything?" he muttered, looking away to avoid my gaze.

"Did you cheat on her?" I refused to let him dodge this.

His jaw became stiff and he tensed up. His eyes went to the barbed wire bat that was leaning against his nightside table.

"Negan, did you cheat-"

"Yes."

His confession felt heavy, and we both stood there soaking in such a simple word. I remembered back to our fight—the ugly argument we'd had months prior, before we'd met Derek and right after I'd finished my rehab from the pain pills. I'd asked Negan if Lucille knew she wasn't enough for him in attempt to get under his skin, and it had worked. I'd never thought more about what that insinuated, until now.

Negan sat down on his bed and stared off into space. He appeared distraught, and I thought he wasn't going to talk anymore. Then he swallowed hard and looked down at his hands.

"She fainted one day. It just happened out of fucking nowhere. One minute everything was fine, and the next I'm rushing her to the hospital. Doc said it was cancer. I held her in my arms while she cried. I knew I couldn't fix it… knew that our time together had an expiration date. I tried to focus on being a coach, and I hit the gym every day, but it wasn't enough of a distraction…"

He trailed off and closed his eyes, then took a deep breath before continuing.

"I was already cheating on her before we got the diagnosis. Back then it was an occasional fling, but after she got sick, the affair became weekly. It wasn't that I resented her, or that I stopped loving her. I never stopped loving her…I just wanted to feel something other than this fucking emptiness eating away at me. The guilt was easier to handle. But I realized too late that I was wasting what little time we had left—that all I needed was her. So I ended the affair and committed myself to Lucille."

His voice cracked as he said her name. It shouldn't have come as a surprise that he had been unfaithful in his first marriage, and yet I found myself shocked. The way he spoke about Lucille, I never would have thought him to have cheated on her in a million years. But he had…

"She knew about the other woman, and was mad I ended it. She couldn't understand why I would pick 'the sick one', but she let me stay with her. After all the crap I'd put her through. She started chemo, and we bullshitted like we used to, but it wasn't the same. Then her hair… Her beautiful, dark locks fell out and she had to wear those fucking cancer scarves. She said she felt so ugly, but she was still so fucking beautiful. I brought her to every appointment and anywhere she wanted to go. We used to go to the park and feed the birds, before she got too weak to get out of bed. I stayed by her side up until the very end, when she had tubes shoved down her throat and in her nose…"

My heart felt like it stopped when I realized he was crying. Negan hung his head down to hide his face, and his voice was strained as he fought the tears.

"That's when the world ended. The dead came to life just as she died. I couldn't save her from the cancer, but I can keep others alive now." Negan looked up with watery eyes and a stern expression.

"The rules have kept us safe. Dwight and Sherry stolen medication and had to be punished. Being a wife is Sherry's punishment, even if it was her idea. She knows how shit works around here. People have to be kept in line. There are tons of Sherrys and Dwights just waiting to fuck us all over. When they see the ones who try get reprimanded, it ensures order."

"But you slept with her, Negan," I whispered as I studied his face. I never thought I'd see him cry.

"Because I feel like I'm losing you," he said quietly. "You haven't been the same since Amy died. I know you need time to grieve, but it's like you're still at that fucking school. There's this distance between us, and I can't stand it."

He shook his head and took a deep breath. "Marrying Sherry was a mistake. I fuckin' know that. And I know I've only added to that distance, but if I could fuck up the good thing I had with Lucille, it was only a matter of time before I fucked it up with you. I'm still that same, stupid man cheating on his wife. I've always been an asshole, but now I'm so much worse. I've done things for the Sanctuary… Unspeakable fucking things, Elle…" He put his face into his hands and tried to hide the fact he was weeping.

I wanted so badly to go to him—to comfort him—to forgive him.

But I couldn't.

My feet were frozen in place as I watched this man fall apart before me. I knew he was right—I hadn't been the same since Amy passed. I didn't feel like myself anymore, but he could have talked to me. We could have tried to fix things. Instead, he took on wife number six.

I was sick of sitting back and letting him do whatever he wanted with these women. I felt neglected and taken for granted. I wanted what we had to be more than just sex, but the romance felt like it was dying. I could either put up and shut up. It was time to lay all my cards on the table.

"I can't do this anymore," I said quietly. It came out more monotone than I intended. I stood there like a statue and wanted so badly just to feel something other than this horrible numbness.

"What if I stopped sleeping with them?" he asked through misty eyes.

"That's not the point." I shook my head and looked away. It was difficult to see him with tear-stained cheeks, knowing I was the one causing him to feel guilty. "You don't get to have me and those other women. It doesn't work that way."

Finding the courage to move, I stepped over to the door and fought my own tears that were building. I hated the finality in my voice, but knew if i didn't say my peace—if I didn't give him this ultimatum now, I'd regret it.

"I'm not Lucille—I don't want you to pick them. I want you to pick me."

I hated how selfish I sounded in that moment. I knew he didn't care about his wives the way he cared for me, but I still envied them. They caused a rift in our relationship, and the only way I could move forward was if it was just us. I didn't want to have to wonder if he would be spending the night with me or one of them. I wanted all of him, not just a part.

"Me or them. You have to choose."

Ball in his court, I turned away and opened the door. As I stepped into the hallway, I heard his voice.

"Elle…" he called, sounding desperate. I stopped for only a second, and when he didn't say anything, I let the door fall shut. Turning back, I thought maybe he would chase after me. When he didn't, I pressed my ear against the wood and listened. At first I heard nothing. Then, I heard the muffled sound of his voice.

"I'm sorry."

He had no way of knowing I heard him, but I had. He sounded remorseful, and it killed me. I'd sent him on one hell of a guilt trip, and I wanted so badly to go back into his room and assure him everything would be okay.

I wanted to forgive him.

Lucille had—but I couldn't.

Stepping away from his door, I felt hot tears spill down my cheeks. I hated this. I hated how this choice was hard for him.

But he still needed to make it.

Wiping at my eyes, I did my best to get my bearings and then headed for my bedroom where Tanya and Abby were waiting for me.

Please choose me