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Two weeks later…
Buffy sat in front of her laptop, her fingers poised over the keyboard. William was gone all day, applying to different law firms. Neither of them had spoken about it, eager to pretend it never happened, but there had been a strained aspect to their relationship. Buffy had been busy making calls, trying to offload most of her art collection and rent out the space, but she’d had no luck. She’d put it off as much as she could in the hopes that something would change, but things had only gotten more dire.
I have to do this, Buffy thought, taking a deep breath. For us. For our life.
And then she Googled the hotel she and William had stayed at in Atlantic City. Buffy picked up her cellphone and dialed the hotel. She tried to keep her breathing steady as the phone rang. And rang. And rang.
“Welcome to the Haven resort,” a pleasant voice said. “This is Thomas the concierge, how may I assist you?”
Buffy tried to speak. Only a croak emerged.
“Hello?” the voice said on the other end. “Hello?”
“Hi,” Buffy managed, her voice high and unnatural. “I uh…..uhm.”
“How may I assist you madam?”
Buffy didn’t know what to say. How could she even begin to explain.
“I…….I’d like to leave a message,” she managed. “My name is Buffy Summers.”
“Ah,” she heard him say. “Very good Ms Summers. For what room number?”
Buffy thought about it. The room number? What was it?
“The presidential suite,” she remembered suddenly.
“I’m afraid that’s impossible,” Thomas said smoothly. “The presidential suite is empty. And when it is occupied, it is reserved for…..an exclusive party. No messages, in or out. No disturbances.”
Buffy tried not to panick.
“The message is for Xander,” Buffy managed to say.
Even over the phone, she could tell she had managed to shock the seemingly unflappable employee.
“Just,” Buffy began. “Just tell him….”
What? Tell him what? How could I possibly explain this to a stranger.
Buffy closed her eyes. Think Buffy, think.
“Ask him if he’d like to bet two million dollars,” Buffy said, her voice shaking a little. “On Red 17. Trust me. If you want to keep your job, you need to deliver this message.”
And before the man could question her further, Buffy disconnected the call.
Thomas looked at the phone in his hand. Two million dollars? On Red 17? Losing my job?
The concierge shook his head and swatted the thought away. Some crazy person, that’s all it is. But as he went through the day, Thomas’s mind kept returning to that phonecall.
Two million dollars? On Red 17?
It sounded like a message. Like some sort of code.
Thomas thought about it. He’d been at this hotel for five years and he’d only met Mr Harris a couple of times in passing. The man had been nothing but affable, if a little demanding, but that was to be expected. And on the off chance that he could lose his job? He had a wife and three kids to support. He couldn’t take that chance. And what was the harm if it was a joke or some crazy person anyway? Thomas knew there was no way he could ever get straight in touch with Mr Harris, but his assistant Willow on the other hand…..
“What’s Red 17?”
Xander looked up. His assistant cum best friend Willow was hovering over his desk in his office in NYC, looking as if she wanted to smack the crap out of him.
“Excuse me?” he said.
“Some crazy lady left a message with the concierge in Atlantic City,” Willow said, holding up a scrap of paper in her hands.
“Two million dollars on Red 17?” Willow said. “Ring any bells?”
Willow could see a flicker of recognition in Xander’s eyes.
“What have you done?” Willow said, glaring at him. “Please tell me you haven’t done anything dumb. I’m getting tired of paying TMZ.”
“What was her name?” Xander said, stretching out his hand for the paper.
“Answer me,” Willow said.
“Give it to me,” Xander said, annoyed.
“Or what?” Willow dared him.
“Or you’re fired,” Xander said.
“I’ll need that in writing,” Willow said gleefully, her eyes rolling in the back of her head. “I think I’ll do something a lot more relaxing. Maybe take a job assembling Iphones in China. Or maybe I’ll pick fruit in California.”
“Fine,” Xander grumbled. “I’d fall apart without you. You’re the best. Just give me the goddamn paper.”
Willow shook her head, then placed the tiny scrap in his hand. She saw Xander examine it.
“Red 17,” Xander whispered, a small smile spreading over his face.
What did you do Xander? Willow thought, shaking her head. What the hell did you do?
Buffy was getting antsy. It had been nearly a week since she’d left the message for Xander, but so far there had been no reply. She considered picking up the phone and trying again, but she didn’t want to come off as…..
Desperate, Buffy thought wretchedly. That’s exactly what I am.
Sometimes Buffy couldn’t believe she was actually considering doing this. Even to her it seemed crazy. She’d get angry with herself, before she remembered she was a bad month away from being destitute. Then she would feel sad, as she remembered the young naïve girl she was and what she imagined her life would be like.
And William would hardly ever look at her anymore, much less touch her. She knew he was still angry with her, even though his fury wasn’t burning hot. Maybe he hoped she’d changed her mind about going through with it. Whatever the case, they hadn’t even come close to broaching the subject. But Buffy had decided she’d broach that bridge when she came to it. Meanwhile, William had got several call backs. Nothing concrete, but hope was eternal.
Then Buffy was forced to consider the fact that Xander probably didn’t even remember her. Maybe he just went around making offers to buy women.
What a shock, Buffy thought. The creep.
Finally, in the middle of dinner, Buffy received a phonecall. William glanced at her only half interested, then got back to his meal.
“Hi Ms Summers,” a chirpy voice said. “I’m Fred, Mr Harris’s attorney. I got your number from our guest records. You left a message for Mr Harris?”
“Yes,” Buffy said, trying not to betray the anxiety in her voice.
“Mr Harris would like to discuss things,” Fred said. “I’ll be arriving in Sunnydale in the afternoon. Could you make it to the Hilton tomorrow at 4?”
“Sure,” Buffy said, glancing nervously at William.
“And Ms Summers?” Fred said gently. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but you should probably bring your own lawyer.”
“Okay,” Buffy swallowed. “Bye.”
Buffy hung up the phone and sat down, beginning her dinner.
“Who was it?” William asked, as he folded the paper.
“A buyer for some museum art,” Buffy said, shocked at how easily the lie slipped off the tongue. The slightest hint of a smile flashed across William’s face and Buffy felt another stab of searing pain pierce her heart.
The next day, Buffy found Fred in the hotel lobby. She took an instant liking to the cute as a button brunette and wondered why Xander had sent this sweet girl to be his henchman.
“Did you bring a lawyer?” Fred asked.
“She’ll be here,” Buffy nodded, looking around nervously as if she was afraid of being recognized.
“I’ve reserved the conference room,” Fred said, gently touching Buffy’s shoulder. “We’ll have the utmost privacy.”
Buffy nodded, her cheeks flushing with shame. But there was no judgement in Fred’s eyes, only the deepest sympathy and understanding. Buffy could sense that Fred was a good person, who was just doing her job.
Just then, Buffy spotted the only person she could trust with something like this.
“Hey B,” Faith grinned. “I’m so glad you called. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
“Shall we?” Fred said, a little too chirpily for Buffy’s liking.
“Go ahead,” Buffy said. “We’ll catch up in a bit.”
“Take your time,” Fred said, giving Buffy a reassuring smile.
Faith watched Fred go, then frowned at Buffy.
“Okay,” Faith said. “Game’s over Buffy. Haha. You got me good.”
Buffy didn’t reply.
“Buffy,” Faith said. “This is a joke right? Please tell me this….”
“I,” Buffy said. “I need your help Faith. I have no one else to turn to.”
“Buffy,” Faith said. “You can’t do this. This isn’t you.”
“I need the money,” Buffy said sadly.
“Buffy,” Faith said shaking her head.
“Don’t judge me okay,” Buffy said, angrily swiping a tear away from her cheek. “You don’t understand. You have no idea.”
“Shhh,” Faith said, pulling her in for a hug. “Buffy….”
“Please Faith,” Buffy said. “I need your help.”
“Are you,” Faith began. “Sure about this?”
No, Buffy thought.
“Yes,” she said.
“Then I’m here for you,” Faith said. “No judgement okay.”
“Thank you,” Buffy said, as Faith wiped Buffy’s tears away.
“Wanna hear a secret?” Faith said. Buffy nodded.
“I’d do it for free,” Faith said. “That man is hot.”
“Shut up,” Buffy said, trying not to laugh.
“Let’s go,” Faith said, locking her arm with Buffy.
The women settled onto opposite sides of the ridiculously large conference table.
“So,” Buffy began. “How does this work?”
“Well,” Fred said. “We’d need to draw up a legal contract. I’ve established a framework.”
And with that Fred pushed a small binder across the table. Faith snapped it up and began reading it under her breath.
“May I have a moment with my client?” Faith said, taking Buffy by the elbow.
“Of course,” Fred said. “Take your time.”
“What is it?” Buffy said, as Faith led her to a corner.
“Two million dollars?” Faith said. “That’s kind of low.”
“Faith,” Buffy hissed. “I’m not haggling like…..”
Like some common whore, Buffy thought. But that’s exactly what you are, her brain hissed.
“B,” Faith said, “you’re a total fox. I’m your lawyer. I got this.”
Buffy shook her head in disbelief, exhaled heavily, then followed Faith back to the table. Fred looked at them inquisitively.
“Two million dollars is….” Faith said, as Buffy looked away, squirming uncomfortably. “Insulting.”
Oh god, Buffy thought. I could die.
“I see,” Fred said as he phone pinged. “Would you excuse me one second?”
Fred pulled out her phone and texted something. In a moment, her phone ‘pinged’ back instantly.
“Oh,” Fred said.
“What does that mean?” Faith raised an eyebrow.
The door opened behind them. And in walked Xander Harris with a smug, confident smile on his face.
“Hello Buffy,” he said.
Buffy’s eyes widened in shock, then hardened.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she hissed.
“Xander,” Fred interrupted, looking angrily at him, then giving Buffy an apologetic look. “What are you doing here?”
“I was just in the neighbourhood,” Xander smirked, planting a chaste, affectionate kiss on Fred’s cheek.
Oh this is priceless.
“Yeah,” Buffy said, shooting a withering look at Xander. “Right. You just happened to be in the neighbourhood. Sunnydale, out in the middle of nowhere.”
Buffy looked at Faith as if to say, ‘Can you believe this guy?’ But Faith was a little distracted, giving Xander a flirtatious smile. Buffy incensed by her friend’s act, gave her a sharp elbow in the side, making Faith wince.
“Focus,” Buffy whispered, gritting her teeth.
“He’s fine B,” Faith whispered back. “I’d do him for a six pack and a hearty handshake.”
“I really was just passing by Buffy,” Xander said earnestly, trying to catch her eye. “I wasn’t trying to….”
“To rub it in?” Buffy said bitterly. “Of course not. You’re way too classy for that.”
“Would you like me to?” Xander said, dropping his voice a little. “Rub it in, I mean.”
Buffy saw the gleam in his eye and knew exactly what he was thinking. And then Buffy was thinking about it too, and he knew she was thinking about it. And it was sending a hateful shiver down her spine.
You’re disgusting, her eyes told him.
“Can we get back to the business at hand?” Fred interjected, giving Xander a look which said, get out please. A look that Xander pointedly ignored.
“So where were we?” Xander said.
“Two million is a bit low,” Faith said.
“Is it?” Xander smiled. “Did you have a number in mind?”
“Do you?” Faith proposed.
Xander stroked his chin.
“Six point nine million,” he said. Buffy and Fred furried their brows as Faith coughed to avoid laughing.
You’re a bad bad boy, Faith thought.
“How about an even 10?” Faith suggested.
“Done,” Xander said. “But for the entire weekend.”
Buffy blanched. The entire weekend? She didn’t know how to feel about that. But ten million dollars. It was more money than she could imagine. More money than they would know what to do with. Will, she thought again. Just the thought of what she was doing was driving a nail of guilt deep down inside her.
“Shall we move on to some other stuff?” Fred said, assuming the terms were agreed upon. “We have to define certain things.”
Faith looked at Buffy who lowered her eyes in assent.
“Like what?” Faith asked.
“For example,” Fred began delicately, addressing Buffy. “When would you consider intercourse to be had?”
“Anal,” Faith said, examining her nails. “Wait did I say that out loud?”
“I think you should leave Xander,” Fred said, as Buffy looked away uncomfortably. “I can reach you by phone if I need anything.”
Fred gave Xander a look which dared him to contradict her, after which he held up his hands and got up from the table.
“Excuse me ladies,” he said, adjusting his five thousand dollar tie.
Fred watched the door close, then sighed.
“Buffy?” Fred continued. “Are you okay to go on?”
Buffy nodded.
“So as I was saying,” Fred continued, in a small voice. “When do you consider intercourse to have taken place?”
“Why is that important?” Buffy said. “Everyone knows what…it means.”
“Just so both parties agree on what exactly they’re agreeing to,” Fred explained gently. Buffy opened her mouth to respond, then just gaped at Fred, looking lost.
“It’s okay B,” Faith said, rubbing her shoulder. “It’s just us here.”
“Sex,” Buffy said, dropping her voice, her cheeks burning with shame. “It’s like…..you know……”
“Sex,” she finished tamely.
Fred gave Buffy a nod, then picked up her phone, exchanging a few more texts with Xander.
“I think we can agree upon,” Fred said finally, looking back at them. It looked as if it was causing her pain to say the words. “Intercourse is only said to have taken place when both parties have…..engaged in the normal act of heterosexual intercourse, which by its very nature can potentially result in the contraception of a child.”
Buffy found herself aghast. She knew what she would be doing of course, but still. The bluntness of the words, coupled with the matter of fact tone of the voice shocked her. Faith saw Buffy’s discomfort and touched her arm.
“Maybe we should take a break,” Faith said, giving Fred a sideways look.
Fred and Faith shared an understanding look. Fred nodded, then left the conference room without making a sound.
When they reconvened a half hour later, Buffy had calmed down somewhat, though still a bit dazed. Faith looked grim and Fred was officially beginning to hate her life.
“So,” Fred began. “What I meant to say was….we would define intercourse as the act between a man and a woman that could….”
And Fred let the word hang in the air, for emphasis. Buffy looked wild eyed again, but Faith touched her hand and calmed her down.
“Could result in a child,” Fred finished. “It’s legally defined as such just to let both parties know we’re talking about the same act. The only act that could possibly conceive a child.”
Buffy’s breathing became faster again, as the possibility of that terrified her mind.
“But it won’t,” Faith said, determinedly, her eyes daring Fred to contradict her.
“Definitely not,” Fred said, nodding her head. “I assure you….”
“I’m going to need that in writing,” Faith said.
“It already is,” Fred said, marking a section in the contract and drawing Faith’s attention to it.
“What?” Buffy said, looking down at the legalese and feeling utterly lost.
“Condoms,” Faith explained quietly. “And birth control. It’s….a legal requirement.”
No love without the glove, Faith quipped mentally. God I’m such a bitch.
“Oh,” Buffy said, looking around, then retreating to within herself. “Okay.”
“But,” Fred began, prompting a warning look from Faith that said ‘tread lightly’. “If….something was……conceived as a result of…..”
“Relations,” Fred gulped.
Buffy found herself growing ill at the very thought.
Fred continued, her demeanour slightly uncomfortable. “There’s a clause within this document that would absolve my client of any legal or monetary…”
“Wait a goddamn minute,” Faith interjected heatedly. “She gets pregnant and he bears no responsibility?”
Faith voicing that thought seemed to rouse Buffy from her trance like status.
“I am not going to get pregnant,” Buffy hissed, shutting her eyes to block out the horror of the thought.
“Of course not,” Faith soothed. “I’m just saying B…..”
“It is not going to happen Faith,” Buffy said, through gritted teeth.
“Buffy,” Faith said, shaking her head. “Listen to me….”
“Look,” Fred said. “If you sign this….”
“In any….situation,” Fred said pointedly, making air-quotes to avoid using the A word. “You get to decide, of course. The advantage to you is that my client would have no legal rights to pursue you in the future. He is waiving his rights in perpetuity. In exchange for you waiving his fiduciary responsibility towards any offspring.”
“In English please,” Buffy said, rubbing her head to soothe the oncoming headache.
“If you have a kid,” Faith said. “He has no rights. At all. You never have to see him again. But you don’t get any money from him either.”
“Yeah,” Buffy gave a hollow, bitter laugh. “Because I’m just dying to have his kid.”
“And the money?” Faith asked quietly.
“The moment she signs the contract,” Fred said. “All she has to do is sign. The money will be deposited into an account of her choosing today.”
Fred got another message on her phone. And another. And another.
“One last thing,” Fred said nervously, as she pulled out her pad and began writing. And writing. And writing. Finally, she tossed the pad across the table and Faith snapped it up. Faith looked at the page sharply, then raised a brow at the brunette.
“These are the….ummm….activities,” Fred said, blushing profusely as Buffy looked confused.
“That you and my client would be…..engaging in…..during the course of the evening in question.”
What? Buffy blinked. Activities? What was she….
And then it hit Buffy with all the force of a ten ton truck. Activities Buffy thought. Oh god. Of course he would want to do…activities
He made a list, Buffy thought, screwing up her face. The sick son of a bitch. He made a list. What kind of man….
“Buffy,” Faith said, looking up and down the list. “You wanna...”
“No,” Buffy said, standing as if she was burnt, and then walking to the corner and turning her face away. “Just….handle it Faith. God.”
“Well,” Faith said, looking the list up and down. “Number two is out. Good luck hitting number 5. Six is a no fly area. Seven? Yeah, dream on. And number 9 is definitely…”
“Faith,” Buffy growled. “Do you mind.”
“Sorry B,” Faith said apologetically, then continued to read the list in her mind.
“I’m sorry,” Fred said, delicately. “I may have misstated my position.”
“Excuse me?” Faith said, her voice sharp now, as she glanced at Buffy, who had suddenly gone very still.
“My client,” Fred said, pointing to the notepad, trying to retain her composure. “Wasn’t asking……he was….”
“What?” Buffy whispered.
Buffy just knew things were about to get worse. Much much worse.
“He was…..informing,” Fred managed to say. “Informing you…that if you sign this document….you would be consenting to participating in these activities during the course of the evening.”
Faith’s jaw dropped. Buffy looked as if she’d been hit by a grenade. No-one spoke.
“Let’s go B,” Faith said finally, rising and then taking Buffy by the arm. “There’s no way in hell I’m letting you go through with….this.”
“Wait,” Fred said, her voice tiny and small. “You can still say no.”
“What?” Buffy croaked.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Faith challenged Fred.
“Paragraph eight. Clause seven. Before each….act….my client would need to obtain verbal consent.”
“You would have to say yes,” Fred explained to Buffy.
“And how the hell are we going to enforce that?” Faith said, her eyes full of fire.
“We would record the audio of the…..proceedings,” Fred said. “No video. Let me make that clear.”
“What?” Buffy said horrified. “No. Absolutely not.”
“No-one would ever hear it,” Fred promised. “It goes to a private arbiter who would sign a non-disclosure agreement. And it would only be heard in case of a legal action. Otherwise it never sees the light of day.”
“But what if….” Buffy said frantically, her mind racing with a million thoughts. “What if someone got their hands on this tape?”
“It would be in my client’s best interest to keep that from happening,” Fred said. “The damage to his reputation alone would costs millions of dollars. Plus he would open himself up from a ten figure lawsuit from you. Believe me, the tape stays with a private neutral arbiter.”
“Faith?” Buffy asked. Faith took her arm, then dragged her to the corner.
“Are you sure about this?” Faith asked.
“I don’t have a choice,” Buffy said miserably.
“It’s the best we can do,” Faith said, taking a deep breath. “At least this way you’re protected. And you get to stay in control.”
Sort of, Faith thought.
Buffy nodded, as if giving herself a mental talk. Faith saw a determined look cross her friend’s face. Buffy walked across the room, picked up the pen and with a shaky hand, began signing the papers. Fred turned away, giving Buffy some privacy noting Buffy’s heavy breath. Fred heard the papers rustle as Faith pointed out where Buffy needed to sign. And then Fred heard Buffy walk out of the room, never once looking back.
“I need a drink,” Faith said. “I hate my life sometimes.”
“Me too,” Fred replied quietly. “I’m buying.”
That evening...
Buffy shut the door to her house behind her. The lights were off. The house seemed empty.
“Will?” she whispered, looking around. He still wasn’t home. Buffy let out a breath she hadn’t even known she was holding. She felt relief for a moment, that she didn’t have to face him. Then the guilt hit her in spasms and waves. Crushing overwhelming guilt.
I lied to him, Buffy thought. I told him he said yes. And today…
“I had no choice,” she whispered to herself, trying to make herself believe it. Do I really believe that? Buffy didn’t know what she believed anymore. All she knew is that she couldn’t lose their house. Her mother’s museum. She didn’t want to lose the life they’d built together.
He’ll understand, Buffy thought. He knows it’s just….
The sound of her cellphone interrupted her thoughts.
“Hello,” Buffy said hesitantly.
“Ms Summers?” an elegantly clipped voice said. “Buffy Summers?”
“Mrs Summers,” Buffy corrected.
“My apologies,” she heard the man say. Buffy placed his accent as British.
“My name is Wesley Pryce,” the smooth, even voice said. “I’m Mr Harris’s private banker. I’m calling about the money.”
“The….the money?” Buffy said.
“Indeed,” Wesley said. “The 10 million dollars. I handle all the high value accounts.”
“Oh,” Buffy said simply.
“May I have the account number?” Wesley said, after a short silence.
“Uhm,” Buffy said, opening up her purse. “Sure. Could you hold on a minute?”
Buffy looked for the scrap of paper she’d stowed away. With unsteady hands she read out the 10 digits, an old joined account they’d opened when they’d first gotten married.
That’ll give me a few days, Buffy thought. To break the news to William. To make him understand. Buffy felt another spasm of guilt and shock, as the enormity of what she had done, no what she was about to do, began to dawn on her. But she knew it was too late. She’d already signed the papers and that posh British voice was telling her the money had been transferred and that she would be receiving a call from her bank to confirm the details very shortly.
“Congratulations Mrs Summers,” Wesley said.
“T…Thank you,” Buffy managed to say, before hanging up the phone.
A few minutes later, Buffy received a confirmation call from one very perplexed, but solicitious Bank manager in Sunnydale, confirming the deposit made in her account and congratulating her and her husband profusely. Buffy barely heard his voice, lost as she was in her own head. He was saying something about investment avenues and how to avoid paying taxes on her sudden windfall.
“I can’t do this right now,” Buffy said, sitting down on her sofa, rubbing her temples. “I….I’ll call you okay.”
“Very good Mrs Summers,” she heard as she disconnected the call.
That evening, Buffy logged on to her bank’s website and into her account. And there it was. 10,000,000 dollars. She stared at the screen blankly. She felt not an ounce of joy, just an empty heavy feeling.
“Lo?” she heard him say. “Buffy?”
Buffy quickly shut off her laptop and slammed the screen shut, trying to keep from looking too guilty. And then William was poking his head into the kitchen door.
“Hey,” he said simply.
“Hi,” she said, giving him a comforting smile.
“No luck,” William said.
“That’s okay,” Buffy said softly. “It’s only a matter of time.”
“Yeah,” William said, dropping his gaze, walking to their table and placing his briefcase on the chair, before removing his coat and hat. “Just a matter of time.”
God, Buffy thought. He sounded so….broken. Like it was killing him to let her down. To be less than what he could be. For in his mind, failing her. In a moment, Buffy flung herself to her feet and threw her arms around him. Buffy saw the surprise in his eyes and felt even worse than she did before. Since their big blowout fight, they hadn’t so much as touched. They’d shared the same bed and the same house, but not intimacy. Only then did Buffy realize how much she’d missed his touch.
“I love you,” she said, as she gently kissed him. “Tell me you love me.”
“You know I do,” he said, as she led him upstairs and into their bedroom.
Later, as they lay in bed, side by side, William kissed her forehead.
“Thank you,” he said.
“For what?” Buffy said, stroking his chest and rubbing her cheek against him.
“For believing in me,” William said. “For believing in us.”
And Buffy realized what he was trying to say.
Oh god, Buffy thought. I have to tell him.
Buffy opened her mouth, but didn’t recognize the words that left her mouth.
“You’re welcome,” she said, placing her head against his chest. William’s lips curved up into a soft smile as Buffy stared at a fixed point on the wall, wondering what in the world she was going to do.
A few days later….
Buffy was on a knife’s edge. Faith had called, telling Buffy she’d received a call from Fred, saying she needed to get herself ‘tested.’
“When?” Buffy said, glancing nervously at the upstairs bedroom. William was in his study, reading.
“I don’t know,” Faith said. “Soon. Fred said soon.”
And Buffy knew she was running out of time to break the news to William.
That evening….
“Would you hate me?” Buffy asked suddenly as she prepared dinner.
“Hmmm?” William said, looking up from his newspaper.
“If I took up the offer,” Buffy said, her voice trembling a little. “Would you hate me?”
“I….” William said, his voice suddenly weary, his body tense. “I don’t want to discuss it.”
“We’re just….talking,” Buffy said, looking away so he wouldn’t see the guilt in her eyes. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Then let’s not,” William said, his voice harsh.
“I’ve slept with other men,” Buffy said quietly. “Doesn’t that bother you?”
Buffy wasn’t looking, but she could tell her husband was gritting his teeth.
“That’s,” he breathed, trying to control his anger. “That’s different.”
“How?” Buffy said.
“You know how,” William said. He hadn’t raised his voice an inch, but Buffy could tell he was getting angry.
“I wouldn’t hate you,” Buffy said.
“What?” William frowned, taken off guard.
“If you were the one who….” Buffy began, then faltered. “I wouldn’t hate you William.”
“No?” he said, disbelievingly.
“I’d be furious,” Buffy admitted. “But I wouldn’t hate you.”
Her eyes asked him the question. He looked down at his plate.
“Be honest with me,” she said. “Please.”
“I don’t know Buffy,” he said, slamming his fist on the table. “Goddamnit, I don’t know.”
Her lips trembled.
“Then I guess you don’t really love me,” she said, turning away to hide the shame she felt at saying that. She knew she wasn’t being fair.
“Not the way I love you.”
And with that she marched up the stairs. He stayed down in the kitchen for a long time and when he finally came upstairs Buffy could see he was wretched with pain.
“Don’t say that,” he pleaded. “Don’t say I don’t love you like…. You know that’s not true.”
“I thought I did,” Buffy said, wiping away a tear, turning to her side. “I thought I was more than just a body to keep you warm at night. I guess I was wrong.”
“You know you are,” he said, coming up behind her and gently touching her shoulder. “You’re more than that Buffy. I love your heart. I love your soul.”
“Then prove it,” she said.
“How?” he asked.
Buffy steeled herself. “By letting me go.”
Buffy felt his hand recoil from her touch as if she’d burned him.
“Let you go?” he whispered.
“Only for one night,” she said, pleading. “And then we’ll be free. Of everything. Just you and me. For the rest of our lives.”
William looked at her for the longest time. Buffy could see he was being torn apart inside. Buffy saw the turmoil in his eyes and felt guilty that she was lying to him that it was for one night only. I’ll tell him the whole truth later, she reasoned.
“It’s not my heart,” Buffy said, touching his cheek. “Not my soul. You’ll always have those.”
Buffy knew William couldn’t say the words. He could never say the words. So with the slightest, most imperceptible of nods, William finally gave in.
For the next few days, Buffy found her nerves on a knife’s edge. Every ring of the doorbell, every call and message on her phone, every e-mail would jangle her nerves. Faith accompanied Buffy to the hospital for her battery of tests, then collected the reports and sent them across to Fred. Buffy waited, and waited, and waited some more. March, turned into mid-April which turned into May. Meanwhile, Buffy quietly took care of all of the bills. They barely made conversation anymore, slept in the same bed but never touched. The whole affair hanging over their heads like the sword of Damocles. William continued to look for a job without much success.
Finally, in the third week of May, on Monday, Buffy received the call she was dreading.
“Buffy,” Xander said simply. “How have you been?”
“Fine,” Buffy said, determined to keep this conversation as short and unpleasant as she could manage.
“Are you free this weekend?” Xander said.
She could practically hear the smirk in his voice. Smug bastard, she thought.
“It depends,” Buffy said coldly. “Am I contractually obligated to be?”
To her chagrin, Xander only chuckled.
“You certainly are,” he grinned. “Unless of course, you’ve changed your mind. In which case, you’re more than welcome to return the money. At fourteen percent interest? That’s a couple of hundred thousand dollars?”
Buffy said nothing. She wanted to tell him to go to hell and that she was going to return the money, but she knew it was a childish fantasy.

“Buffy?” Xander repeated. “Are you free this weekend?”
Buffy knew Xander was enjoying his position of dominance over her. Savouring it.
“Yes,” she said, trying not to scream obscenities at him.
“Good,” Xander said. “I’ll send the car on Friday. Bring your passport.”
“Goodbye Xander,” Buffy said, her finger poised over the disconnect button.
“And Buffy?” he said, forcing her to wait just one more moment.
“Yes?” she said, harshly.
“It’s all I’ve been thinking about,” he said, dropping his voice low. “Tell me you haven’t.”
Buffy didn’t wait this time. She just hung up the phone, tossing it onto a the bed, then sat down on the side, wrapping her arms around herself. Only one thought kept going through her head. How was she going to tell her husband what he feared most was going to come to pass? How am I going to break the news to Will?


Chapter End Notes:
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