Chocolate. He liked chocolate. He orders a chocolate martini. He idly wonders if it’s a girly drink or not. But then, what does it matter? It’s still alcohol, going straight to his gut because he hadn’t eaten anything. Plus, he’ll probably chase it with a few shots.

It was early afternoon, but it was extremely dim inside of the bar. As it should be, he supposed. It was fitting to his mood; to the mood of the several people in there. From the outside, the bar is nothing but dark tinted windows, making it impossible to see the inside without putting your nose up to the window.

There’s a “Welcome” mat at the double door entrance, but he feels it should say “Bottom of the Barrel,” where it’s black, cramped, and filthy. There are many hanging ceiling lights on, but they’re all on the lowest setting possible. The brightest areas are where the televisions are on; one behind the bar, one in the front right side of the bar, hanging by a ceiling fixture, and one on the left, vice versa.

The bar is only a couple of years old. All of the leather seats are still in tact with hardly any scratches or holes. It is early, so all of the ash trays are clean. The bar is more or less quiet except for the game that’s on, and the sounds of clinking glass as the bartender mixed a drink.

He takes out a cigarette and lights it up. He stares at the red embers. Damn it he thinks. Just when I was on the verge of quitting. He was so close to having at least one problem out of his way. Until she fucked up his life. Beautiful, betraying, bitch. He was certain that if he thought hard enough, he could trace back every ounce of pain and misery that occurred in his life over the last ten years back to her. Forget six degrees of separation; make it three.

Three. The man three stools down from him appeared to be on his third drink. Scotch. There were three patrons in the bar. Everything comes in bloody threes. Then, he thought, if that’s true, that means that as soon as she leaves me again, betrays me somehow, I’d have to do it all over again, one more time, the last and third time, before I die. Fucking threes.

He deeply pulled on the cigarette as he looked at the older man down three stools. He had a large, bulbous nose, and his back seemed hunched. He trembled as he thought that one day, that could be him. Old, alone, getting drunk off his ass at a lonely bar for the dregs, with a protruding gut. He thought of choking her for putting him there. But no, that would be too easy. Maybe hitting her with his car, running over and over her tanned body, leaving skid marks of blood on the blacktop. No, she’d probably die from the initial impact of the first hit. Or maybe a harpoon… It would be glorious. He gave a grin of sick satisfaction.

What does it matter for him to have murderous thoughts? A thought couldn’t hurt anyone. So what if he wished her bodily harm? Thoughts were meaningless, as long as he didn’t let it evolve into a plan. Plans were bad. They had plans. Of marriage, 2.5 kids, and white, picket fences. Maybe a sheep dog. Though, he had wanted a black Doberman. But what did it matter?

How could she just break my heart? The whole situation just left a sour taste in his mouth. Mouth. She has a nice mouth. Her soft, pink tongue could spit fire though. Oh boy, could she cut a man down in size in a matter of seconds. Yea, that’s what the bitch did. She emasculated him.

It wasn’t fair. But then again, what was? Nothing was fair, and nothing mattered. Not anymore. Except for when she looked at him. Those large, hazel, intense eyes would penetrate him to the core of his soul. She really burned him, and yet he was still drowning in her. She has to be the devil. She is everywhere, and is all that is evil. Lord knows their relationship was nothing but a trip- to Hell. Yes, she was the Princess of Darkness, who took many forms. Satan, Old Scratch, El Diablo, Beelzebub… but he knew her as Buffy.

********


I really didn't want to go. I thought it was just going to be another boring day at the supermarket. Especially since I was with my mother. Just another uneventful Saturday afternoon. Well, for me anyway.

"Why do you keep avoiding my questions?" I heard the man ask. He was directly behind us in the checkout line.

"Stop it. People will hear you." The woman tried to whisper.

"Hear me? Hear me?! You think I actually give a fuck if they hear me? What? Am I embarrassing you now?"

"Shut up, Will. Now is not the time."

"It's never the time, is it? It's never time for me. Always him, isn't it? I'm not good enough, right? Why do you keep on punishing me?" He said in a pleading voice.

"Please, can we discuss this at home? Please?" I could almost feel her darting her head back and forth, looking at their pseudo audience, who were pretending to not watch at all. It felt too weird for me to just turn around. So I listened instead; intently.

"Home? What Home? I wasn't aware we had one. Doesn't a home consist of love, a family? Which we clearly lack."

"Look, I promise as soon as we- "

"No! I'm tired of this. I'm tired of you and your bullshit. How much can a man take? You belittle me endlessly in front of our friends and family. Do you even love me anymore?"

"Of course I do." She said in a slow, steady voice.

"But you're not in love with me, right? You're not in- God, I can't do this. If you can't forgive me, fine. Then leave me. End my torment. If you won't forgive me, then just leave me, alright? Just leave, cause at least then, the pain would be quicker. It would be easier."

"No! You can't just give me an ultimatum in a grocery store, for crissakes! You –”

"What? What?! You actually have the stones to tell me what and what the hell I can't do? Sod this!" I heard a small piece of metal drop on the floor. I figured he dropped a ring.

"Good bye, Buffy. I hope you and Liam work it out." He said somberly. I saw him walk away out of my peripheral vision.

"Don't go. Please." But only I heard her. Maybe someone else actually saw her lips move. Before he walked out of the door, he turned back and gave her a quick glance. His shockingly blue, soulful eyes were burdened with salt water.

I don't know what made me do it, but I felt compelled to turn around then. She seemed to stare at the floor for hours. Then she looked at me. She was a sad, sorry sight. Her large green eyes looked so bleak and hopeless. I bent down and picked up the gold band. I placed it in her hand and closed it.

"Go to him." I don't know why I said it, but she listened to me. She nodded as tears leaked from her now red eyes. Then she ran.

Buffy ran as fast as her legs would allow. She figured he couldn't have had that much of a head start on her, but she wanted to be sure. She didn't want to lose him. She couldn’t.

She knew she was wrong. She knew she was hurting him, but she couldn't stop. That particular night she spent with Liam seemed like the longest night of her life. But she didn't intend to hurt Will; she just wanted him to see; to feel something. No, she was the one who wanted to feel. She was the one who wanted to feel. She was the one who felt dead inside, and she punished him for it. For his unnoticed pity, and his unconditional love. She felt she didn't deserve it.

She found him standing idly by their SUV, drawing invisible patterns on the driver side window.

"I was stupid, ya know. Forgot you had the keys." He said in a monotonous voice. He looked at her reflection in the window. He made a mental note of her tear stained cheeks, but refused to turn around and console her.

"I am so sorry. I'm so sorry, Will. I still love you. I still need you." She said in a quivering voice. He felt the fury rise in him.

"Were you loving me while you fucked him? Were you needing me when he pounded his filthy cock into you?!" He finished yelling, all the while pounding his hand on the roof of the car. He took a deep breath in an attempt to compose himself. Buffy took a deep breath as well, attempting to muster up some courage, and walked closer to him. She gently placed her hands on his shoulders. He didn't flinch away, but his shoulders sagged considerably.

"Please don't leave me. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. Even though I know I don’t deserve it… but please, forgive me. I need you to forgive me." She then slowly turned him around, placing his wedding band in his left hand. His gaze, though sad and weary, was unwavering. He lifted his hand slowly and gently caressed her cheek. She nuzzled her face into his open warm palm. “Please don’t go away from me.” She whispered.

"We can't start over, and I can't forget what you- what happened." She started nodding her head vigorously in an attempt to quell her tears as his rejection sunk in. She couldn’t. The tears wouldn’t stop. The pain wouldn’t stop.

"I know. I - I unders-" He cut her off as he placed his index finger on her lips with a gentleness he reserved only for her.

"Shh. But I'm willing to try to work on it, to work on forgiving and to work on us, if you are."

*******
"Hey honey. How was your day?" Buffy asked from her place on the couch.

"Fine. Jolly good. How was yours?'' Will asked as he shut the door of their apartment, his voice devoid of any real emotion. It had been four days since the incident at the store, and he barely spoke to her. The one time that they did make love, if you could even call it that, he hardly looked at her. What was supposed to be one of their most intimate moments, instead made her feel like a whore. After he came, he just turned on his side and slid over as far away from her as humanly possible. She silently cried herself to sleep afterwards.

"What is the problem? What the hell is your deal?" She said as she stood up, her face flushed in fury.

"What are you goin' on about? All I did was ask how your day was." He retorted with flinty eyes and what appeared to be genuine confusion.

"You said you would forgive me. I feel like I'm in a fucking prison." She said in a low tone, trying not to get hysterical or cry.

"I'd said that I'd work on forgiving you. But how in the hell lam I supposed to forgive someone who isn't even there? All you do is sit back and smile and agree with every bloody thing I say. It's like you're holding a soddin' banner saying 'I'm sorry.' Well I am sick of it. And you say you feel like this marriage is a prison. Is that right? Well fine, then. I release you. Divorce me if you want." He said, shocking them both. He began to head up the stairs, but she stopped him by grabbing his shoulders and spinning him abruptly around.

"Stop running away. That's not what I meant and you know it! You hardly look at me, hardly touch me... You make me feel dirty. That is not forgiveness. You- you're not even trying. It's like you only said that so you wouldn't miss out on the opportunity of punishing me. You won't kiss me or-" Her voice broke, but she still resisted the urge to cry. He roughly grabbed her wrists and held them over her head with one hand pushing her forcefully against the wall.

"Is this what you want? Want me to touch you?" He gritted out before crushing his lips to hers. His free hand went to the zipper of her jeans, quickly undoing the button and forcing his hands down into her panties. Buffy gasped in surprise and pleasure. She rocked against his nimble fingers, moaning when one of them began to caress her where she wanted most. William abruptly broke the kiss and released her wrist, putting his hand underneath her shirt. He roughly grabbed her left breast, making her cry out in pain and shock. He immediately stopped all of his ministrations. As he looked at the tears rolling down her cheeks, he hastily stepped away from her, his entire being filling with guilt.

"Oh god, Buffy. I'm sorry. I don't know what I was- I never meant to hurt you, luv." Buffy looked at him, this broken man. Her love; her husband; confidant and best friend. She looked at what he emotionally had been reduced to because of her betrayal. She saw confusion, pain, and love in his eyes. What caught her attention most was the love. He still loved her. She locked eyes with him and slowly walked over to him, giving him a comforting embrace.

"I know, baby. Just make love to me. I need you to make love to me..." She trailed off as she began to tenderly kiss his jaw. She began rubbing her hands over his muscled chest. He grabbed her hands and kissed them gently.

"All right, luv." He said as he led her to their bedroom.

***************

It was if nothing had changed. He was loving, caring, and attentive. He moved in and out of her with slow, leisurely strokes. He felt at peace for the first time in what seemed like a life time. She was right there with him, nearly unblinking eyes filled with her love for him. He imagined his eyes mirrored hers; their bodies as well as their souls becoming one.

Buffy grasped his shoulders tightly as his pace quickened. She never thought she would ever feel happiness such as this again. Just his simple caresses gave her complete elation. She knew that this was where she belonged, and she would never leave him again. Never.

"Yours. I'm yours. Forever- yours, Will." She panted as she felt the pressure build inside of her. She never felt as complete as she did now.

"Buffy- Buffy, I love you so much." He said as he felt her clenching around him. They came together; one, whole, complete. When they both came down, he held her close.

"I can’t let you go. I won’t." He whispered to her, brushing his lips across her forehead.

"I'll never want you to. Stay here with me." She whispered back as she kissed him tenderly. They both saw endless clear waters ahead of them. It was the calm before the storm…

Buffy couldn't be happier. She was on some sort of natural high since last night. Will had been incredibly amazing, and not just in the bedroom. It was as if things were the same again. She couldn't seem to stop smiling. That is until she ran into Liam, her ex lover, on her afternoon walk. She had a suspicious feeling it was no accident.

"Buffy, long time, no see. I get the feeling that you've been avoiding me. Am I right?" He questioned as he lightly caressed her collar bone with the tips of his fingers. She roughly slapped his hand away in repulsion.

"Don't touch me. And don't play games. I told you, it's over." She stated as she began to walk away. He grasped her wrist and jerked her close to his body- flesh to flesh.

"No, don't you play games with me. You know good and well you never could and never will love him like you love me. Remember, I was there first. Nothing will ever change that." He said in reference to her virginity. The pair had a long, sordid history, which Will wasn’t fully aware of.

"That was a long time ago. I was a fool then; a young, inexperienced imbecile. I've changed. I know what's good for me now, and believe when I say you're not him. And who said that I ever loved you?" She retorted vehemently, all the while attempting to pull away from him. But he wouldn't let her go. She wasn't fearful, however. It was broad daylight in the very watchful neighborhood.

"Hey, who're you trying to convince, lover; me or you? You know that no one can give it to you like I can. Especially that limp piece of -" He was cut off by her backhanding him across the face. She used her left hand, and the stone on her wedding ring left an angry, scratch, blood oozing out immediately. He turned back and gave her a look that seemed so empty, and yet so evil.

"You know he's going to leave you, right? He'll leave you all alone, and you'll come crawling back to me."

"He would never leave me. You're wrong about him, and you're wrong about me. Now let. Me. Go." She said with determination.

"Don't waste a good thing. You're gonna miss the water now that the well’s gone dry, lover." He sneered at her as he let her go. She gave him a deadly look before storming away, never looking back.

"I never said he'd willing leave you, babe." He muttered to himself as he slowly backed away.

********
Buffy was a light sleeper. Throughout the duration of the six months she had had staying at the three story house on the hill, she had become accustomed to two sounds during the night: the humming of the refrigerator downstairs, and the sound of her husband’s light snores. The latter was missing; William was no longer in bed.

She sighed sadly upon realizing that she knew he was missing because she couldn’t she couldn’t feel him beside her. They had just started spooning again this week as opposed to opposite sides of the bed, or different rooms. She rubbed gently at her eyes as she got out of bed. She gave a brief yawn and a stretch before putting on her house shoes and heading down the stairs. The house was too silent. She hated hearing the wood creak as she walked across the uncarpeted floors, the echoing sounds her shoes made as they flip flopped against her feet. It was impossible to sneak up on anyone in that house. No matter how lightly she attempted to tread, he would still be able to hear her coming. But then, there was no need for silence. He was already awake, and “Unfortunately,” she thought, “No children to disturb from a peaceful sleep.”

The only light on the entire first floor emanated from the partially closed door of the study. Not lamp light, but the flickering of flame from the fireplace. She thought it to be odd, since it was the middle of summer. They had central air of course, but still…

She stood at the door for a moment and peaked through the slit without pushing it open. He sat directly in front of the fire with his back to her, most of his body hidden behind the massive, leather chair upon which he sat. She could clearly see the top of his golden brown head tilting to the side as if he were in deep contemplation.

She gently pushed the door open, hating the loud creaking noise its hinges made as she did so. With a furrowing of her brow, she called out, “William?” His head perked up a little at the soft sound of her voice, but he said nothing.

“Whatcha doin?” She asked in faux perkiness as she walked closer. He gave a short chuckle at the sound of her voice.

“Just… thinking.” He replied softly, glancing at her quickly before turning his blue eyes back to the orange flames that consumed the wooden logs without mercy as it licked the soot covered bricks.

“Thinking is good. Don’t wanna rot your brain away.” She said uneasily, shifting from foot to foot.

“Why do you think there’s this distance between us? I mean, I forgive you, I do.” He said, turning his body to look at her. She gave an uneasy sigh, walking towards him until she was by his side.

“I don’t know. Are we still in love?” She asked, really asking if he was still in love with her.

“I’m still in love with you. Are you— ”

“Yes.” She cut him off. “I’m still in love with you too. But is it enough?” He swallowed, staring at her steadily.

“I don’t know.” He answered honestly.

“I… I’ve been thinking, Will. And I think, I know that I want to try again.”

“Try what?” He asked, seemingly unsure of what she was referring to, but knowing full well.

“I want… I want to try to have our baby Will.” He swallowed deeply, wishing that he had a smooth brandy.

“You’re sure?” He asked in a low voice, wondering if he could go through it all again if she…

“Yes.” She whispered. “Yes.” She said louder. “I know that I shouldn’t of blamed you when… When I lost her. I know that. But I was hurting so much. I wanted her… so much.” She continued, her voice trembling with pain. “That hurt over losing her, nearly killed me, Will. And I just felt, so alone. You just… you went along as if everything was normal and fine, and I was dying inside.” She said, shaking her head, thinking of how if she hadn’t lost the baby, or at least if Will had shared her pain, she wouldn’t have fallen into Angel’s arms. “But I don’t blame you. That’s just how I felt. But I do want your baby. I always have.” He sat there, staring at her, mouth slightly agape.

“That was why, wasn’t it?”

“That was why what?” She asked truly perplexed.

“Why you… Why you went to him. You thought I didn’t grieve for our child, right?”

“You didn’t.” She said quietly. He stood up in a flourish of fury and pain.

“I did. I cried for her. I begged, and wept and asked God why we couldn’t keep our baby. But maybe it was my fault for doing it alone. For not wanting to burden you. To be strong, for you. For taking care of you, not that you wanted it.” Buffy was stunned into silence, hurt and dismayed by her own careless actions.

“I didn’t know, William. I’m so… I’m so sorry.” She said, tears flowing from her eyes. He pulled her to him gently, holding her tightly.

“I’m sorry too, my luv.” He breathed in her scent deeply.

“So can we?” She asked into his shoulder, breathing in his scent as well.

“As the lady wishes.” He replied, pulling back to look at her before kissing her tenderly.