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Dear William ~

I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear from, no to mention the last person you expected to hear from. I had gotten your new address from your publisher. She let me know that you have finished your book when I called. Congratulations.

I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry. You might not believe that I am in lieu of what’s happened and what I did, but I am at. At least I did make sure Angel gave Buffy an easy divorce even after he found out he was not Lindsey’s father. I waited until we were a safe enough distance away before I told him. I told you that I would take care of that for you and for Buffy and I did.

I realize now the predicament I had put you in and how unfair I was to you. I should have told you when you invited me that I knew who Angel O’ Connor was and what meant to me. Maybe then we could have figured something better out – a different way maybe. . . I do love Angel with all that I am and I know that you love Buffy with all that you are. I truly believe things are as they should be, my only wish now is that it didn’t have to happen the way it did.

I was not thinking clearly and I put you in a tough situation because I was being selfish. I wanted Angel and that was all I cold see. I doubt if you had chosen to turn the car around and to back to Rhode Island, I wouldn’t have found a way to make you take me to him. As I said, I was single minded and selfish. I wonder at times if Angel and I would have been able to leave if you had woken Buffy the way you threatened to that morning.

I truly hope you are happy William. I hope you were able to find the happiness and love with Buffy and Lindsey that you so desperately wanted. They are your true family.

Take care,

Winifred O’ Connor

All Buffy could do was stare at the letter, frozen. So many questions were running through her head – more like questions that required confirmation rather than answers.

A mantra was being played out in her mind all the while: He knew, he knew, he knew.

Apparently, the other shoe had dropped. It was more like a steel toed boot: Heavy and thick.

“Buffy, what are you doing?” Spike was up.

She watched him with letter in hand come out of the bedroom and head toward the kitchen. He was shirtless with black sweat pants on. His hair was rumpled and he looked as if he could use more sleep.

“Buffy?” he said and entered the kitchen. He froze when he saw the look of pure, unadulterated venom on her face and the letter in her hand. “Buffy where did you get that?”

“I was looking for bread. Imagine my surprise upon seeing this,” and she shook the letter forcefully.

“You shouldn’t have read that---“ he tried, his eyes widening in fear.

“I guess you’ll have to excuse me for wanting to read the letter from the woman who ran off with my husband—“

“Ex husband.”

“—To the man I’m currently dating. Hey, Spike, did ya happen to know that it was thanks to Fred that I got off easy with the divorce? Funny how you said you thought he’d go easy on me. I should have believed you considering you knew exactly why it would be an easy split. Hey, did ya know she knew about you being Lindsey’s father – and from the sound of it, long before Angel did. How is that possible Spike?” Her tone was calm and yet dripping with heavy sarcasm. She sounded like Patrick Bateman in American Psycho who could calmly discuss the musical genius of Genesis whilst hacking a victim to pieces.

It was positively chilling. Which accounted for the shiver that ran through Spike.

“Buffy, I can explain—“

“Oh Jesus. Where have I hear those words before? Oh yes. From Angel after he fucked around on me. Nothing good ever comes after those words are uttered. You know what? Before you start explaining, I’m gonna ask a few questions of my own first, all right?”

He nodded, swallowing hard.

“You told Fred before you came here about you being Lindsey’s real father – yes or no?”

“Y-yes.”

“You knew who she was to Angel before you got here – yes or no?”

“Yes, Buffy, but –“

“And at what point did you think it was okay to bring her here?” she shouted at him angrily.

“At what point did you think it was okay to keep Lindsey from me?” he shot back.

Grabbing an egg from the carton on the counter, Buffy flunk it at him in retaliation. He dodged it and it landed against the wall with a satisfying crack, the yolk sliming down the wall. “You can’t bring that up everytime you fuck up!” She grabbed another egg and flung it at him. “You fucking bastard, you brought her to my home knowing what she wanted with my husband! You saw the pain I was in. You knew the whole time!” Buffy screamed at him as she whipped egg after egg at him, all of which, aside from a few, he managed to dodge.

He leapt at her and succeeded in grabbing her. She struggled against him, kicking and trying to pull herself free. Finally, he managed to pull her back against his chest, holding her about the waist with her arms banded to her sides.

“Let go of me!” she yelled at him.

“No, I’m not – Buffy, please, listen to me,” he pleaded.

“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say. I hate you!”

“Don’t say that!” he shouted. Burying his face in her hair he said, “Don’t say that please. Buffy, I love you baby so much and it killed me to see you in so much pain—“

“I’m sure, especially since it took me so long to go to bed with you!”

“No! Don’t say that. Don’t reduce this to sex, Buffy,” he said fervently.

“Let go of me, Spike,” she said, calmer now.

“Will you stop throwing things?”

“Yes.”

”Will you talk to me?”

That, at the moment, she couldn’t promise. But hey, if he could lie, so could she. “Yes.”

He let her go. Immediately she gingerly moved around the mess she’d made, making sure not to slip on the yolks covering the floor. He followed behind her but she was single minded in her intent to grab her things and leave. She could not talk to him at that moment. If she did, she was sure to start throwing cutlery at him. Blood and appendages would be even more of a bitch to clean up than half a dozen broken eggs.

She went to the bedroom and felt like throwing up and crying at the same time. The night before had been filled with such fun. Never had she laughed and had sex at the same time. It was fun and sexy and oh god, it was wonderful.

And he’d been lying to her. He’d known the whole time. He had stood before her that morning and had claimed not to know where they went. He’d even run up the stairs to ‘check’ to see if Fred had gone. He had seen how upset she was that they had left Lindsey downstairs by herself with nothing but the TV and her coloring books to watch her. He’d seen her rant and rave and cry -- and he’d been the means for them to have gotten together. He’d known and he’d never said a word.

Her heart hurt. And the last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of him. She’d done that enough.

She whipped off his shirt and hastily changed into her clothes.

“Buffy, will you talk to me, please?” Spike asked, standing there having the audacity to look wounded.

She grabbed her overnight bag from the floor and slung it over her shoulder. She looked at him. “Was it worth it?”

He stared at her. “What?”

“Did you get what you wanted?”

“Buffy, please—“

“Did you?”

“You’ve been happy these past few weeks, Buffy. That’s what I wanted. I wanted you to be happy,” he stated. “I’ve only wanted you to be happy.”

“No, that’s not all you’ve wanted,” she said and started for the door, slipping into her shoes on the way. Difficult task with yolk on her feet.

He was on her heels in an instant. Grabbing her and spinning her to face him. “Don’t leave me, Buffy. Stay here and we’ll work this out. I love you, Buffy, I love you so much—“ the raw pain and the tears in his eyes touched something inside her, moved a bit of the anger she felt toward him – but not enough. Then he was trying to kiss her and she shoved him with all her might.

”No!” she yelled at him. She shook her head. “I can’t even look at you right now. You don’t get to touch me. Not again, not ever again.”

“Buffy, no,” tears streamed down his cheeks, “I wanted to tell you, I was just so afraid--“

“Goodbye . . . William.”





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