Release

by Chuck Allen

Amanda Kay Johnsons' eyes flicked open, and at once she was fully aware and awake. She blinked several times as she lie there under the warm comforter in the darkness of her bedroom. Lightning flickered outside, silhouetting on the large bed the faint shadows of the water droplets on the window pane. Moments later, the dull rumble of distant thunder reached her ears.

Oh, she mused to herself, it must have been the storm that woke me up.

She smiled to herself, mildly amused that such a gentle summer shower could wake such a deep sleeper like her. Stretching her arms under the comforter, she sighed and shifted over onto her side. As she pulled the blanket up over her shoulders, she stopped in mid-motion.

Trevor was not there.

She raised up her head, and some long, brown hair fell down in front of her eyes. Absently, she brushed it away while propping herself up on an elbow to look around the room. Again the bright flick of light streamed in through the window, and Amanda could clearly see that Trevor was nowhere in the bedroom. Smoothly, she put a hand on the bed sheet just below his pillow. Cool to the touch. Trevor had been gone for some time now.

Probably fell asleep in the bathroom again, she giggled inwardly. Despite proclaiming his devotion to the scientific method and his sometimes analytical way of dealing with people, Amanda had found out that Trevor really did have a well-developed sense of humor. That was, of course, one of the reasons she had married him. He also had a fair amount of interesting and endearing, if unusual, quirks. Among these was the penchant for falling asleep while going to the bathroom at night. Usually when this occurred, Amanda would find Trevor half-naked, asleep on the floor beside the porcelain idol. He would get embarrassed, and she would playfully tease him for the next couple of days. When he was fully awake in the morning, he would solemnly swear never to do such a thing again, but in a few months, she would catch him again. Eventually it had reached the point some five years into their marriage that Amanda simply accepted the situation and didn't find it desirable to embarrass Trevor anymore about it. Still, she thought impishly, it was good ammunition to have when Trevor would comment on the way she sometimes snorted when she laughed. I should probably just let him stay there, she continued to herself. He'll feel bad enough without me finding him there.

Amanda shifted under the blanket, listening to the steady rain fall onto the roof and the occasional rumbles of thunder across the sky. And yet, even after what seemed like a long time for her, she still did not feel drowsy at all. Glancing at the digital display of the alarm clock to her right, she sighed again. 2:13 A.M..

I suppose I should get Trevor back into bed, she reasoned. I could use a cup of tea to get me back to sleep anyway.

She slipped out from under the comforter and swung her legs out over to the side of the bed. As her eyes had some time adjusting to the darkness of the room, she had no trouble at all finding her fluffy slippers on the floor. She slipped them on and got to her feet. She heard the distant thunder through the rain once more, so she took the few steps over to the window to look out over the front yard. Yet it was her reflection in the glass that caught her attention more than anything else. Amanda spent a long, thoughtful moment examining the woman in deep thought that stared right back at her.

Hardly did Amanda think herself a vain woman, but she did take a certain pride in her appearance. Through a steady regimen of exercise and avoiding red meat, Amanda had the body of a teenager. Through a bit of care and discipline, she had lustrous brownish-black hair that tumbled around her shoulders, framing her deep brown eyes and full lips. Her skin has already begun to tan deeply, although it was only the beginning of summer. She raised a finger to the glass, touching her twin in the long satin nightshirt.

This is what I get, she breathed, for being Greek. My kids are gonna have to deal with it, too . . . some day.

She folded her arms under her chest, thinking about children. When she had married Trevor, she had been a virgin, despite having another boyfriend for two years before meeting him. She had always liked that about herself that she had the moral fiber and mental discipline to maintain her virginity until she wed. Up until that first awkward night with Trevor, she had never thought much of the whole act of sex. To be frank, that first somewhat painful night with him didn't do much to change her opinion of it. Amanda remembered being so terrified-No, that wasn't the word she wanted...anxious when she finally took off her clothes in front of him. But she needn't have worried. He had been so kind and gentle and nonjudgemental, she felt her love for him grow a thousandfold that night. He only said that she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, even with her slight frame and breasts that she thought were much too large for modesty's sake. She remembered those words that convinced her to try it a second time the next night, and this time, it hurt less, and there was actually some pleasure in it as well. And every time since, he said and meant the same thing, and every time, it was wonderful.

Still, they had no children in the span of five years. It wasn't for lack of trying, either, Trevor and she had discussed the matter of children at length before and after the wedding, and they wanted some. Not really right away, so they hadn't tried that hard. But as time wore on, they tried more and more to conceive to no avail. Eventually, they had gone to specialists to see if something was wring with one of them, but experts told them everything in each of them was working perfectly. They couldn't find a single reason why Amanda did not have a house full of children already.

The thoughts made Amanda faintly melancholy. Both Trevor and she joked about the huge house that lived in not being cluttered by noisy kids, and they did manage to go on dazzling vacations all over the world, but she knew that they would see those "noisy kids" as a blessing from God. And she also knew that Trevor blamed himself for her empty womb, but that was one of the few things that he never wanted to discuss with her. For the life of her, she never had figured out why Trevor had felt so guilty.

The lightning flickered again, causing her to blink, jarring her out of her thoughts. Rubbing her arms, she made her way around the bed and out into the upstairs hall. Her slippered feet made not a sound, and the only sound she could hear was the pattering of the rain on the roof. Too late, she realized that she had left her glasses on the nightstand beside the clock. She simply shrugged an crept to the upstairs bathroom.

"Trevor?" she whispered, quietly turning the knob and pressing her weight to open the door. Darkness an silence greeted her. Trevor was not inside.

Slightly worried by this turn of events, Amanda shut the door with a faint click and made her way down the stairs to the kitchen. Without the comforter, her legs could feel the cool summer night air, and she absently rubbed the side of her thigh for warmth.

Where was Trevor?

She reached the first floor, turning from the stairs into the spacious kitchen to the right. Carefully, with her hands in front of her, she stepped over to the stove and flicked on the small light above it. Then she grabbed the tea kettle, filled it at the sink, and put it onto one of the front burners. As the water began to heat up, Amanda leaned up against the front of the oven and looked out the window toward the bay laurel tree in the yard, illuminated through the rain by a white street light. She felt a desire to sing "Raindrops Keep Fallin' On My Head," but she only knew the first line of it. She liked to sing. It make her feel alive, somehow, but her voice really wasn't very good. Try as she might, it always sounded off-key yet monotone at the same time. Trevor teased her all the time at church that he could withstand the Gates of Hell opening better than her rendition of "Amazing Grace."

"Hi, Amanda."

Trevor's voice was just above a whisper, yet its suddenness caused Amanda to gasp and jump, bumping her head into the metal overhead above the stove.

"Ow!" she yelped as she turned around, rubbing the sore spot on her head. That might leave a bump.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you, hon."

Amanda saw that Trevor was slouching over the kitchen table, blandly sitting there in his bed robe, staring at her. He seemed to have been there for quite some time. The tall glass of water in front of him was nearly empty, an it stood beside a pair of large scissors and what looked like a silken cord with a serious of knots in it. Although Trevor was more that six feet tall and weighed almost 200 pounds, he seemed to Amanda to be somehow frail an small sitting there facing her. It made her uneasy to see him like that when he usually exuded such an easy confidence. The low thunder outside complimented her own heart beat as it settled back into its normal pace.

"Trevor? What are you doing here...in the dark?" she said as she rubbed her head. Her husband simply shrugged noncommittally, grasping the water glass in his hand.

"Thinking," Trevor answered distractedly.

Amanda's pain had begun to subside. Maybe there wouldn't be a bump after all. She ran her tanned fingers through her hair and past her ear. Then she crept over to Trevor as he took a swallow of water, paying very little attention to her. As she approached, she saw that he had been crying for a while now. His eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, and he still had a tear trail down his left cheek. Clearly, he was worried about something.

Gently she took her thumb and wiped away the tear as he set down the glass. With his other hand, he reached up to hold Amanda's face. His watery eyes moved up to meet hers, and Amanda could feel deep emotions churn within those glossy depths. That had been another reason she loved him so: his deep and heartfelt emotions. Before Trevor, she had never really known a man with such good intentions and noble convictions. Trevor's emotions, strong as she knew they were, rarely clouded his judgment, except, she realized, when it came to her. Then, she knew, he would always be there for her, and he had always kept his word.

Trevor moved her hand up to his lips, gently brushing it with a light kiss before letting go.

" 'Manda, you know how much I love you, don't you?" Trevor asked softly.

Amanda blinked once in confusion and smiled faintly as she eased herself down into the chair beside her husband. To be sure, she almost thought Trevor's question was some kind of joke except for the seriousness on his face. Of course, she knew that he loved her, nearly as much as she loved him. He told her he loved her every day, sometimes nearly a dozen times a day. And she new knew that with him when he said it, he certainly meant it. So the only reason she could think why Trevor would ask such a question would be it something was terribly wrong.

"Yes," she slowly responded, not quite sure what else to say. "Of course, I do."

"I do. I really do," Trevor replied, almost to assure himself of that fact. Amanda reached a hand over to run her fingers through Trevor's short hair. Trevor seemed almost in a daze, not really noticing her. Something WAS terribly wrong.

"Trevor," she spoke calmly and slowly, "please tell me what's wrong."

The faraway look in her husband's eyes disappeared and he focused directly into hers. Amanda felt, rather than saw, Trevor put his cool hand over hers. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Amanda saw his brow furrow as he apparently struggled with what to say next. The rainy silence was nearly deafening.

Seeing Trevor struggle with himself, Amanda put her other hand over his and offered, "Is it work?"

Trevor was a writer, but she knew, he more often referred to himself as a "glorified hack." He would spend hours on end hunched over the word processor, typing out his latest novel or screenplay. Usually, he had three or four separate projects going at any on time, but Amanda rarely read any of them. Trevor's tales of the macabre and fantastic had gained him bestseller status and everything material they had ever wanted (as well as several movie credits), but she just didn't enjoy reading any significant length of them. Occasionally, Trevor would write a short story just for her. Those particular stories were light and airy. But whenever she asked him to write like that for the world, he'd laugh sheepishly and say that it would "spoil his image of darkness." She personally thought he was afraid to show everyone he was a big ol' softie at heart. And now, sitting at the table, maybe he was feeling some kind of writer's burnout. From time to time, she herself needed to forget about her own job running the relief organization, too.

"No," he mumbled. "It's fine."

"Is it...me?" Amanda could think of absolutely nothing that she had done to make her mate so distraught, but seeing the pained expression subtly cross his face, she seemed to have hit the mark fairly closely.

"It's me?" Amanda asked incredulously.

Trevor shook his head, squeezing her hand in a loving grip.

"No...well, sort of...I guess." Trevor was definitely having a hard time expressing himself. Scenarios and reasons for his odd behavior began to spring up in Amanda's mind and, unbidden, she began to think the unthinkable.

Determined to keep her cool, she levelly inquired. "Is it another woman, Trevor?"

Trevor's shocked expression was almost comically done, eyes wide and mouth agape. She found herself substantially relieved to find that her husband found that particular idea repugnant.

"No!" He spoke emphatically. "No! How could you think that, 'Manda?"

She slid one hand out from under his hand an touched her collar bone, saying defensively, "Well, normally I wouldn't, sweetie, but you're acting so weird, I don't know."

"I've always loved you, ever since I met you. There's never been anybody else."

"Then why are you acting like this? Why are you so sad? Tell me."

She had put enough emphasis on "tell me" to indicate to her husband that she wouldn't take any response except the correct one, and that he'd better say it right quick. She knew she could be stubborn, but sometimes it was the only way to deal with him when he got like this. As she figured, Trevor only took a moment to tell her what exactly was bothering him. He softly cleared his throat and spoke barely above a whisper.

"I'm sad because you think you love me. And because you have for so long."

Amanda blinked. Had she heard Trevor correctly?

"Say what?"

"I said I'm upset because you think you love me," he repeated.

"I DO love you," she said without thinking, causing Trevor to grin. But there was no humor in his eyes. Amanda could see new tears beginning to well up around his lower eye lashes. He blinked, and a tear traced down his cheek and spattered onto the table. Yet when he spoke, she could tell it was taking all of his self-control to keep his voice level and clear of emotion. He was only partially successful.

"I know you do...and for that, I'm so sorry. I've been so selfish..."

Again, Amanda reached out a hand to wipe away the tear trail and caress Trevor's cheek. She didn't understand, but she knew he was hurting. She tried to think of something to say that would make it all better, but the best she could do was:

"Why? Trevor, I don't understand..."

Trevor pulled away from her touch. At that, Amanda felt her heart drop. Over the years, she had come to realize Trevor really enjoyed her touch. It seemed that in his family, which was never that close anyway, touching was seldom done (and only for practical purposes). When the two of them started to see each other seriously, Trevor was very hesitant about touching her or being touched at all. Gradually, he had overcome this phobia and now enjoyed touching. It disturbed her deeply that he had just pulled away, especially with this whole, unreal situation.

Her husband took a swallow from the water glass and glanced out the window just as lightning flashed into the room. Amanda ran a finger through her hair to put some errant strands out of her vision. Trevor looked back at her with a sad look of wistful melancholy in his eyes.

"Amanda, do you remember when we first saw each other?"

"Uh-huh," she answered soothingly. On occasion, like any couple, they talked about their own past from time to time. She was already familiar with this. Why was Trevor bringing this up? What, was there an anniversary coming up that was troubling him?

"No," he continued, leaning closer to her, "do you REALLY remember the day you first saw me?"

"Yes, I do," she answered, not seeing at all where this was going. "You came into the Russian 102 class on the second day of the quarter and asked the instructor to join the class. She said, 'Da,' and we knew each other from then on."

Actually, as Amanda remembered, Trevor had indeed requested to be in the class she was in, but she didn't have a very vivid impression of Trevor or that particular day. It wasn't until several weeks later when Trevor had worked up the courage to talk to her that she had found him okay as a person and much, MUCH later that he had become someone she loved.

"I remember you," Trevor whispered, examining her face in wonder as if for the first time. "It's like it is engraved on my brain. Your hair was dyed a dark auburn then. You remember?"

Well, not specific details, she thought. She tried to look far into Trevor's eyes to see what all of this had to do with anything.

"I took one look at you, and I knew that I had seen the most beautiful woman on God's green Earth," Trevor said in wonder.

After all these years, Amanda could still feel her face become flushed at those heartfelt words. She grinned embarrassedly at such naked flattery, but she let her husband continue, lost in thought of memory.

"And then I talked to you and found out that you were even more incredible on the inside." He paused. "I fell so hard for you, hon. I had never met anyone as pure of heart or nobler of spirit than you. I thought you WERE an angel."

Amanda took his hand in hers, and this time, he didn't shy away. He simply swallowed, blinked, and sighed.

"But," he went on, "I knew that you didn't see this..connection...between us like I did. I knew I didn't have much going for me for looks, either. I can be pretty stupid sometimes, too. But I just wanted you to like me, that's all."

She recalled his first overzealous efforts to win her affections. He had sent flowers to her with frightening frequency, and his constant calls to her, asking her to study Russian, began what she felt a relationship that was much too intense. She had always preferred a slow and gradual process of getting to really know someone, and Trevor's speed was way too fast for her. She had become defensive, but she did find him sweet and funny enough to keep on as a friend.

Trevor again glanced out the window at the falling rain. Then his eyes moved to the knotted cord and scissors in front of him. Idly, he handled the cord with his free hand. Carefully, he kept his eyes lowered and on the table, avoiding Amanda's face. She gently rubbed his hand.

"I tried for so long, it seems," he thought aloud, "to get you to see me as more than a friend, but it never seemed to work. Sometimes I wonder why you just didn't get rid of me altogether."

Amanda knew, of course. Despite a lack of romantic interest in him, Trevor was different from the normal myriad of weirdos and oddballs that had hit on her. Maybe it was because she had sensed his good intentions and his genuine interest in her as a person (and NOT as just a body) that she stayed friends with him. After all, he did cool his jets after a while, and it was then that she had relaxed her guard enough to find out that Trevor was, in fact, a good person to know.

"Then, after a while, I was content to just be your friend. I want you to believe that, hon." He glanced up to meet her eyes, waiting for a response.

"I believe you, Trevor."

"But the more we talked and studied and kid around, I found myself in love with you more than ever. Still, you didn't see me the same way."

"But I saw you as such a good friend!" she put in, trying to cheer him up. Maybe he was depressed because he felt that their actual friendship over the years had dwindled, though she sensed no such thing occurring. "I told you things that only my closest friends would find out! You know, talking about going to the gynecologist is not one of my top ten favorite things to do with a complete stranger or at parties. I even set you up with friends of mine when you needed a date. You had become a part of my life!"

"A small part," he replied.

"A significant part," she countered.

"Not as significant as Mike, though. And you know I'm right about that."

Lightning flashed and thunder rolled outside as Amanda's retort died on her lips. Trevor had certainly thrown a low curve ball at her, didn't he? For Mike, her previous boyfriend just before her seriousness with Trevor, had been a taboo subject for years, off hand, she couldn't remember the last time his name had even come up in conversation. Trevor had well known the utter contempt she felt for that man, the man who had...had...what had he done again? Oh, yes, he never shared his feelings with her and made her feel unappreciated and blew off big holidays like Valentine's Day. Even after all this time, Amanda could feel that lump of cool bitterness sitting in the pit of her stomach. Oh, the amount of time she had wasted on Mike!

She heard Trevor sigh again, shaking his head slowly while sorrowfully staring at her. Her expression plainly described her mood.

"You know, 'Manda, I never even met the guy. Ever."

"Good," she replied, a little too vehemently. She didn't like to feel this way about anyone, and she had a lingering fear that if Trevor had met and talked with Mike even once, Mike would've tainted him in some way. Yes, she inwardly breathed, it's much better that Trevor never even met him.

"You don't understand." When Amanda frowned, he continued, "You and MIke had loved one another for quite some time, regardless of how you might feel about him now."

Amanda knew that her husband figured exactly how she felt about Mike. But, strangely, Trevor had never much expressed a desire to even talk about or find out about Mike at all. Amanda had thought that particular kindness another endearing trait, and she loved him all the more for it. She dropped her frown, but Trevor wasn't looking at her anymore. His eyes had fallen to the piece of knotted cord he played with absently in his hand. She brushed a stray piece of hair out of her eyes as Trevor spoke.

"Let's face it: Mike was my only serious opposition to your becoming first my girlfriend and them my wife. And I never met the guy" I never really saw what he was like."

"Trevor," Amanda subtly interrupted by touching his shoulder. "Mike is the Past. When I first kissed you, I knew that, in my heart, I had loved only you. I still do, sweetheart. Why are we talking about...him...anyway?" She tried hard not to sneer.

Trevor again opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat, and nothing but air emerged from his lips. Amanda smiled her warmest smile. She knew that Trevor loved her smile. He told her once that it wasn't the white teeth in perfect order that made it so wonderful, it was the simple honesty that went with it that made it so. She had turned back some of her husband's darkest moods with her smile. And if this wasn't a black mood, she didn't know what was.

"Sweetie, the water's almost boiling," she gestured over at the kettle on the stove top, and Trevor's eyes followed. Bringing his hand up to her cheek, she purred, "What do you say we have a cup of tea and go back to bed? Groovy?"

Trevor shut his mouth and sat there passively. Seeing this as a sign of acquiescence, Amanda started to get up from her chair and take Trevor with her. She only got a quarter of the way up before he broke his silence and gently pulled her back down into the chair.

"Wait. I want...to tell you why I was sitting here."

She almost breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, Trevor was getting to the heart of the matter. Sometimes she wondered if he calculated things like this, planning and plotting conversations in advance like a writer so he could have maximum impact with his words. She said nothing, merely opening her brown eyes more as if to say "go on, hit me with it, pal."

"I think I know why we haven't had any kids."

"Why, Trevor?" she soothingly asked.

"It IS my fault."

So, she thought to herself, he finally wants to talk about his guilt over their lack of children. But why now? Why in the dead of night and at the kitchen table? Time would tell, she supposed. She just had to keep him talking, get all of this out into the open. Amanda had already come to grips about her own guilt. It was passed time Trevor dealt with his feelings, too.

"It's not your fault," she smiled benignly. "There's nothing wrong with you OR me."

"Physically, maybe-"

"In ANY way," she interrupted. "We've just been...extremely unlucky, 's all." She could feel her face flush as she impishly added, "It's been great fun trying, though."

She had managed to get Trevor to faintly smile. It was a start, she concluded. She watched as he lifted up the silken cord and hold it in front of her eyes. Amanda could see nothing unusual about it: a simple white piece of silken cord knotted nine times along its length.

"And that is...?" she asked.

"This," he murmured with a small sound of disgust, "is why you've been punished by not being able to get pregnant."

"That." She smirked disbelievedly. Was this some kind of joke that her husband was playing? No, she thought as a lightning flash lit up his serious countenance, Trevor apparently didn't think so. The only other option she could perceive was that he might be...going crazy. He always joked that he wasn't playing with a full deck of cards, to which she always responded that it might be so, but he had enough cards to win. Now she was worried.

"This," he replied. Seeing the expression on her face, he explained, " 'Manda, when we had become friends, real honest-to-gosh friends, I knew -- I KNEW -- that if Mike were out of the picture, you could and would love me as much as I did you."

He dropped the cord back down onto the table.

"But I also knew that you deeply loved Mike, too."

"Well, I wouldn't say th-"

Trevor raised a hand, cutting her off.

"You did," he whispered, looking her in the eye. "And all I could think about was you. Day and Night. You wouldn't believe half the things I did to try to distract myself of you, hon. And I kept telling myself that I did have a chance with you, that eventually, you would see things my way. As time went on, I grew more and more desperate because things were definitely not working out to my 'Grand Scheme.'"

The water in the kettle had reached a boil, and steam started to cloud around the warm stove light. Amanda didn't even notice it, so enthralled was she in Trevor's words. Never had he spoken to her likethis, with such self-loathing.

"And as luck would have it," he said, again holding her hand, "I chanced upon this little out-of-the-way magick shop. Then I started to asking the witch there some very interesting questions."

Amanda gave him a perplexed look. She couldn't help it, really. Magick? Witches? This, coming from Trevor, the man who believed in the superiority of reason and reality? Sure, his stories were strange and bizarre, but the storyteller was very down to earth. Until now, apparently. She struggled in her mind to find a way to help him. What could she do?

Her husband seemed lost in his own little world at the moment, his eyes clouding over in remembrance. Then he refocused as a tear dripped onto the table.

"I asked all the right questions. I found out exactly what to do without the witch even suspecting what I had in mind: to make you love me. I was so clever."

He looked up at her and, seeing her roll her eyes at his story, pushed himself away from the table and stood up. Amanda saw him turn away from her and run his fingers through his hair as he went over to the window.

"What's the point?" he asked despondently, speaking to Amanda's reflection in the window. "You don't believe a word I'm saying. Let me tell you, if I were you, 'Manda, I probably wouldn't believe me, either."

Amanda's eyes dropped momentarily to the cord and scissors in front of her. Somehow the room felt much cooler now; she found herself slowly rubbing her arms to get rid of the goose bumps. Trevor turned on a heel and made his way back to the table.

"But I have to tell you, mostly because I think...I think I've been so unfair to you. I can't go on living with myself like this."

Amanda picked up the silken strand with two fingers and held it up before her face.

"And this thing. I'm supposed to believe that this was part of some kind of magick spell to make me fall madly in love with you? That's where this is leading, isn't it?"

She gracelessly let the string fall from her fingers. Trevor shrugged.

"I don't know for sure. But I've never lied to you. Not when it mattered, at any rate."

"I don't need any witches or magick spells to make me love you, then or now, Trevor."

He came up to her and kneeled down beside her chair. He laid one hand on her thigh as he caressed her cheek with the other. Trevor's light touch sent tiny tingles down Amanda's spine. Absently, she realized that it had been a little over a day since she last shaved her legs. She reached over to caress Trevor's cheek and placed her other hand over the hand on her leg. Trevor swallowed once and spoke.

"I don't know, Amanda. Now I'm not as sure about it."

Amanda couldn't help but smile at the absurdity of what Trevor was suggesting. To be sure, she was one of the strongest willed people she knew. From time to time, her stubbornness and tendency to bluntly speak her opinion had gotten her into bouts of trouble. Usually, she would regret it later. Trevor always lovingly teased her about it, but Amanda thought her will gave her a personal edge she didn't want to lose. To imply that she had somehow been...controlled...to be in love with Trevor was ridiculous. THIS was bothering Trevor?

"Oh, sweetheart," she breathed, "you didn't make Mike ignore me enough for me to stop seeing him. And I fell in love with you because I knew you were always there forme."

Her husband grinned bitterly, responding, "Amanda, my spell was cast at midnight on September 8th. I specifically 'requested' that you and Mike become irreparably split, that you would never want to see him again, and that you would love me more than any other. On September 10th, we kissed for the first time, and 20 months later, we were married. The coincidence is disturbing, isn't it?" He paused, awaiting some kind of response, but she continued to give him a blank half-smile. " 'Manda, the witch who had helped me prepare the whole ceremony TOLD me that making a specific person fall in love with me was inherently evil. Something to do with bending wills. She told me anyone who would do that would pay a price. A high price."

"Our not having kids," she finished for him, her steel trap of a mind catching what he was leading toward. Trevor grasped her hand in both of his and held tightly. His voice quivered as he spoke.

"Not just that! What if...what if you and Mike were SUPPOSED to be together?"

Amanda made a little disgusted sound in her throat, explaining to Trevor exactly what she thought about that idea. Forever with Mike? Blech!

"I mean it. I could've totally wrecked his life! I know I'D never get over losing you, so I can't help but wonder what I did to him. What have I done to you?"

"Oh, get over yourself, Trevor!" she retorted, determined to put an end to this nonsense. "Except for having this stupid conversation in the middle of the damned night, you have made me the happiest woman on Earth!"

She realized that she didn't SOUND very happy, merely annoyed, but she did mean what she said. Trevor let go of her hand and stood up, presently sitting back down in his chair beside her. He sadly shrugged again.

"I want to believe that."

Amanda glared at him to get such foolishness like doubting her love for him out of his head. Let's get this over with, she thought, and go back upstairs and work on that baby!

"I know that you've made ME happier than I ever deserved," he grimly said, gesturing to himself. "But how do I know that you really love me? Or are you saying that simply because of the spell?"

"You'll just have to take my word for it, buster."

"I want to."

"Then do it."

Again he gave her the grim smile. "If it were only that easy. For a long time, I could live with the idea that your feelings may not be genuine. I was happy, right? But it finally got to me, not knowing for certain. I never wanted to be this evil. I can't use you any more. I'm ending the spell."

"You're going to cut the cord."

Amanda was slightly surprised to find herself feeling bit of trepidation over that thought. As silly as it sounded, she wondered what would happen when that string was cut. She LOVED the way she felt about her dear husband. The very idea that her love might suddenly blow out like a match in the wind filled her with dread and fear. Was she controlled, or did she really and truly love Trevor? Would she be leaving Trevor in the morning, or would they be laughing about this whole incident with their grandchildren? The whole experience seems so surreal...

Her husband nodded, picking up the pair of scissors with his right hand. With his left, he grabbed the silken knots and placed it between the two sharp blades. Amanda saw him pause, wrestling with his emotions. Thunder rumbled nearby, shaking the walls of the house. She was acutely aware of the sounds of falling rain, her steady breathing, her strong heartbeat.

"Amanda, I just want to say that I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I did this to you. I'm sorry I was so selfish. But mostly, I'm sorry that it took me so long to work up the courage to stop this. I should burn in Hell for what I may have done to you. I-," he struggled to say just the right words, but all that came out was, "I'm sorry."

Quickly he stood up and leaned over the table and kissed her romantically on the lips. Amanda breathed in his scent as they hugged. The touch on her lips lingered.

"I hope you're right, Amanda," he whispered into her ear. "I really do."

Then he sat back down, took a deep breath, and opened the scissors wider. He glanced up at her, and she found that the breath had caught in her throat.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

And he cut the cord.