0 comments/ 55464 views/ 25 favorites Tribute Tales: In Memoriam By: SirThopas While some may disparage the lack of emphasis on unique style or original content on this site, I find certain trends that develop in this free reign writing system to be rather fantastic. Story memes, readers taking the initiative by dreaming up their own endings or sequels for stories they like, even story structure blueprints that grow not out of discussion but more over time, like a sociological experiment. I even enjoy the way these tools essentially allow writers to take a particular theme to explore a concept or feeling to the point of exhaustion or saturation. So, while my own writing will generally be aiming for a different purpose or goal, from time to time I like to indulge myself in these niche marketing designs. And, since most or all of my other stories will be designed to connect to one another, I have labeled these Tribute Tails to provide them with the distinction of separation. I really believed, for a while, that the death of my wife was the end of my story. It's impossible to define that kind of pain for someone who hasn't experienced it firsthand. But if you had asked me, that cold day in February when she was laid to rest, if it was possible for a person to hurt any more than I did right then, I would have confidently told you 'no.' And I would have been wrong. Andrea was my wife, and remains the one love of my life. And, as spouses go, she was beyond incredible. Every day I got to spend with her was a gift that I wish I could go back and reopen. It wouldn't matter which one; they were all the best. We'd had nine ambrosial years together, and were proud parents of an eight year old son, when I left for a week's worth of training in St. Louis and lost her forever. The happiest nine years of my life, bar none. The trip was uneventful, save for one thing: I had dropped my cell phone in the toilet while shaving. I fished it out, cursing, but I had forever ended its usefulness. This was two days before I was due back home. No problem. I figured I'd get a new one; I even had my eye on a Blackberry. Using the hotel phone, I tried calling the house to let Andrea know that my cell was no longer among the living. Nobody answered. I just left a message. Fifty-three hours later, I was on my way home. Not even the stale, artificial airplane air, or the cramped conditions, could bring me down. I was like a puppy coming home after a week at a kennel. I only knew four words: excited to get home. I remember being struck by the sunken weariness of John and Amy's faces when I saw them waiting in the terminal. John and Amy, my friends ands, waiting to pick me up. Not my wife and son. Alarm bells. Hard truths. Tears. She wasn't there because she wasn't there. She'd been gone for two days. In fact she was in an ambulance, dead, while I was trying to call and tell her about my cell phone. Somehow, that thought buried me in guilt. She was so freshly removed from this world, a catastrophic and purposeless ending, and I was wrapped up in the unimportant. The way I understand it, she was finishing her shower and slipped getting out of the tub. It's an insignificant moment that most people probably face at some point in their life. But instead of stumbling and hurting her knees, or catching herself at the last minute, or even thumping her forehead on the ground and having an embarassing bruise, my wife had fallen and struck her temple hard against the corner of the vanity top. Our son William heard the noise from the fall, but didn't think anything of it. It wasn't until an hour had passed and his mother was still in the shower that he got worried. When she wouldn't respond to his hammering on the door, he called his Aunt Amy. By the time John had broken down the door she was dead. William, being eight, took it hard. That's an understatement, but the language can't be bent or twisted hard enough to convey the pure anguish a child is capable of experiencing. It was something heavier and more tragic than time itself. But the truth is I wasn't far behind. I was almost totally incapable of being there for him. John and Amy could see this, I suppose, and they stepped in to help us both. William was grateful, I was horrified. My problem, and his salvation, stemmed from the fact that Andrea was a twin. Her sister, Amy, looked exactly like her. She lived about a block and a half down the street with her husband, the aforementioned John. They'd celebrated their eleventh anniversary the August prior. Small detail, but as it turned out very important. Andrea and Amy were so completely exact that even I had a hard time differentiating between them in conversation. After almost a decade, I still struggled to tell the difference. It was there, however minute, in the form of a small but thick scar...maybe half the size of a thumb...that was high up on Amy's stomach. It could really only be seen when she wore a bikini. Oh, I'm sure one could see it when she wore less than that, but who would be scar hunting under those circumstances? My little William latched onto Amy with a hollow-eyed desperation after his mother passed. She looked and talked just like her, she had the same kind eyes and the same bright smile, so why not? When he was with her was the only time he had any life in him. She let him keep some small amount of his former life, and he loved her for it. I, on the other hand, couldn't stand to be near her. My reasons, obviously, were the same as his. She was a living, breathing reminder of my wife. Every minute with her was a reminder of what I had lost. But unlike William, who only sought to have his mother's gaze and attention back on him for a few short moments, I was missing something Amy couldn't give. When she was around, it was like my wife was in the room, but eventually I would have to watch her go back to another man...her man...at the end of each visit. At first John would come over with her each time she visited, but Amy seemed frustrated by his presence. She paid him little attention and gently pushed away whenever he tried to touch or hug her. All of her energy was spent on us, William and me. All of Andrea's chores, she took care of. When the conversation went morosely silent, she perked it back up. When William cried, she held him. She reached for me, once, when my own tears would not be held back, but I jerked away. I couldn't deal with that. I think John was a little uncomfortable with her stepping in so fully to Andrea's shoes, and she knew it was hard on me for them to watch them be affectionate with each other. Mostly, they didn't interact much while they were around us. And he always looked so beaten down and drained. He would draw inward and fall silent for long periods of time. I did wonder if maybe he and Amy were fighting about what she was doing. I remember one night he left for home, while she stayed to help put William to bed, and he swung in for a brief kiss before he headed out. She didn't fight it, but she put her hands up to his chest and stepped quickly away afterwards. She glanced over at me, anxiety on her face. He saw that, his face darkened, and he left quickly. I pretended I hadn't seen anything, but I doubt I did a very good job of acting casual. She watched me for a few moments, an unreadable expression on her face, and then went off to find William. John stopped coming over with her, after that. I never asked about it. She tried to help us, to find a way to be a part of our healing. She gave of herself completely, spending far more time at our house than I thought was fair to herself or to John. She wanted to do whatever she could. I saw that. I just couldn't accept it. She would come to the house and help with housework, or spend time with William, and even try to sit across from me at meals and talk about my day. Worse, I could clearly see affection in her eyes when she looked at me, affection greater than that of a concerned sister. Sometimes, I even imagined she was falling in love with me. It was killing me. Finally, I started avoiding the house when she was there. This strategy only worked for a few days before she confronted me on it. I had stayed out late Wednesday, hoping to avoid talking to her. I'd called and left a message that I would be working late again and, as was becoming my new custom, I drove to Borders and grabbed a random book off a random shelf. When the store closed, I went for a walk by moonlight until I thought it was late enough for her to have gone. But when I drove by the house at 11:30 her car was still there. Sucking it up, I pulled my van into the garage and headed for the kitchen. She was sitting at the table, looking for all the world like Andrea. A sad, weary expression drew lines on her forehead, but her gaze was locked on me and full of hurt. More hurt than I would have expected, actually. It took me by surprise. "Chris," she said softly, "I know what you're doing. Please don't hide from me like this." Busted. I sighed, and eased myself into the seat opposite her. "Sorry, Amy. I know I'm pushing you away, and I know it's not fair. Andrea was your loss as much as it was mine." I saw her wince at the name, and drop her gaze. We were carrying Andrea around like some heavy ghost we must all share in keeping in this world. "But I just can't do this. I can't see you every day. My whole life is torn open. The life I wanted to have, that I thought lay ahead of me, is over and gone. No growing old with my wife, no sharing the adventures of the next forty years. There's not a single moment left to be shared with my soul mate. I can't be forced to see her face...hear her voice...two, three times a week. I can't be with her and still learn to be apart from her. I need to find a way to live without her. I haven't been able to find that yet, because as long as you're here she is too." Tears had begun trickling down Amy's face as I started talking, and by the time I finished she was sobbing openly. I thought it was strange that she wouldn't look at me as she cried, but who knows what goes on in a woman's mind. "I'm so sorry, Chris," she said. "Oh, God, I'm sorry." "None of this is your fault. Please don't think that I could ever think or feel anything negative about you. You and John are good friends. I've been leaning on you both, and you've never complained. You've given William and me so much, and that's what makes this so hard. God knows I could use good friends right now." This only seemed to make her break down more. "Please wait," she said. "I have to tell you something." "Amy," I held up my hands, "this is hard for me so please just let me finish. You're right; I can't keep sneaking around hiding from you. But I also can't be around you...not yet, not now. The trouble is, William needs you so badly. He was always much closer to his mother than he was to me, and he's really latched on to you. Being with you is the only time I see him happy, anymore. It makes me jealous, to tell you the truth." This produced another round of tears. I bit my lip. "I think I have to get away. I have to leave." I held my hands up again as her eyes went wide. "For a while, not forever. I'm afraid if I stay here, I'll never heal. But I won't take William away from the people he needs most, nor will I take him from his friends. I was hoping..." I took a moment to wipe the moisture from my eyes. This was harder than I'd expected it to be. "...I was hoping that you and John would consider...looking after my son. While I'm gone." There. I'd said it. And without breaking down. I couldn't say the same for Amy. "No, Chris! You can't go! You don't understand." Tears poured from her face. "If you can't do this, then I do understand, actually. But with or without William, I am leaving this place. Not forever. Just until I can...well, just until." Amy closed her eyes tight. For a moment neither of us spoke. Finally she said, "Ok. I'll do it. I can't lose William. Not him, too." When her eyes opened again, there was resignation in them. I felt pity for her, for the sorrow for guilt she obviously felt, and tried to smile and console her. "In a way, if this had to happen, I am so grateful that my son has you to take care of him. His whole world has been shattered, more than yours and more than mine. I hate to think how this would have gone without you here to help. That's why I need you now. My reserves are burned up. I don't have anything left to give. The last thing William needs is to have his world even more shook up by the selfish desires of his one remaining parent. He needs someone in this world who is looking out for him, not just themselves. He needs safety and consistency and calm. Please. Be that for him." Her shoulders sagged as if in defeat, but she nodded her head. "I will," she whispered. Then, suddenly, she sat up straight and squinted at me. "But you have to promise to take better care of yourself. I see what's happening to you, maybe better than you do. I have counted the empty bottles in the trash can. I have seen the cupboards stay bare even as your body shrinks. You can't let yourself give up, Chris. For me, please, you can't." I didn't say anything. I couldn't. But I nodded. "I mean that," she continued, unplacated. "You have no idea how much it's hurting me to see you suffer like this. If you have to leave for a while to find your way through this, I understand," she had that hurt look on her face as she said that, and I suspected she didn't actually understand at all, "but you have to promise to look after yourself and you have to promise to come back to me...to us." I was a little taken aback by her use of the word 'me,' and I must have looked at her funny because she blushed. I was getting more and more uncertain of just what her feelings towards me were, and I was very uncomfortable. I figured getting out soon was the best thing for all of us. It was just four weeks later that I was boarding my plane. William had already moved in with his aunt and uncle...he was happy about it. I had only seen Amy a few times after our talk. She was obviously the one avoiding me, now, and I thought that she must be doing that for my sake. I appreciated it. But I still didn't understand the look in her eye, the deep watery sadness, as the three of them saw me off at the airport. I didn't understand the way she cried and clung when she hugged me goodbye. And I didn't understand why John still looked so tired and depressed...much as he had the day he told me that Andrea had died. And I wouldn't understand it for two years. It was immediately clear to me, upon relocating, that I'd made the right choice. Without having Amy bring Andrea's face over every other day, I was finally able to begin healing. I'd taken a pretty sizable pay cut in the move, but I was living a spartan lifestyle and sending all my additional money home to Amy and John. I talked to William on the phone every week, although after the novelty wore off and he developed new habits and routines he was no more interested in our little talks than any kid his age would be. I always came back for major holidays and birthdays, and I took William on a week long camping trip every summer. By the end of the first year I was together enough to go on my first date. It was pretty nondescript, but it felt good. A few months after that I met Karen through work, and soon we were sharing evenings and intimacies. It may not have had the intensity that I felt with Andrea, but I was acutely aware that this was someone I could love. My visions of the last years of my life were no longer nightmares, lonely and empty. This was a beautiful woman who cared for me, who I was building new memories with. After six months I was feeling so good about her that I decided to take her to meet the family. I talked to John about coming out to see them, and he seemed nervous about it. I couldn't understand why...William and I had talked about her quite a bit, and he seemed pretty unphased by the idea of his dad dating. I wasn't sure what the future held, but I knew that Karen was becoming a part of who I was and it was important to me to involve her in the more important aspects of my life. Specifically, my son and the people I considered to be my family. I told John so, but he only seemed to get more uncomfortable. "I just don't know if it's a good idea, Chris. William..." "William is not the problem here, and you know that. So just come out and tell me what is." He was quiet for a moment. "Alright. I think it will upset Amy." I was stunned. Upset Amy? Why? Were my fears, in the weeks after Andrea's death, justified? Was Amy developing feelings for me? It always seemed to make her sad somehow when I came to visit, but I thought that maybe I had the same effect on her that she had on me: we reminded each other that someone in the room was missing. Someone who had been important to us. "You're kidding," I said, dumbfounded. "Why would Amy be upset? She suddenly doesn't want me to move on with my life? Tell me what's going on, John." He sighed. "I don't know. Maybe you moving on is the last step towards Andrea being really gone. In effect, you're letting Andrea go once and for all. You're divorcing her. You can see how that might upset her, right?" I grunted. "I think maybe it's time to close that coffin. She can't use my pain to protect herself from the truth. If I can live with my wife's death, then she can learn to live with her sister's. Besides, what's the alternative? What if I marry this girl? Do I just not get invited to your house anymore? Am I suddenly not welcome this Christmas because I fell in love again?" "I honestly don't know," he said. Shocked doesn't begin to describe it. He doesn't know? Now I was mad, and hurt. Why would these people who mean so much to me not want me to be happy? "Fuck, John! Are you kidding me?! I guess I'd better start looking for a bigger place, then, because if I'm not welcome at your house then my son sure as hell isn't going to be staying there anymore. It's probably past due anyway. He needs to be with his father." John was silent for a moment. "Hold on," he said. He must have put his hand over the receiver, because I could hear him talking in hushed tones. I could hear Amy's voice, too. They almost seemed to be arguing, but I couldn't make out any words. John came back on. "Hey, uh, Chris? I'm sorry, man. I jumped the gun a little bit. I guess emotions are still riding pretty high for...for all of us, you know? You're right; we should be supporting you on this. It's just...hard. You should come out." "No, I think maybe I shouldn't. I don't want to go upsetting anybody." "Please. I insist. We insist." So I went. Holy crap, what a mistake that was. We were there for three days. The first day, Amy was glaring daggers at Karen the whole time. John pretended not to notice, but he sulked a lot. She snubbed her, asked her inappropriately pointed questions, and threw veiled critiques at her every chance she got. I asked John to get her to cool it, but he just looked at me like it was my fault. I think he did try, but he was no more able to contain her than I was. When I confronted her about it that night, while Karen was waiting in the car, she lashed out at me, too. "What the fuck is your problem, Amy? I've never seen you like this!" "I don't know what you mean," she folded her arms and gave me a challenging look. "Bullshit. What was all that crap about taking care of myself, living my life? Did you mean any of that? Here I meet someone I care deeply for, someone I might be falling in love with, and all you can do is attack her! Make her feel unwelcome! Jesus, she's probably crying right now, I'm sure she'll never want to come back here again, and I don't even know what I can do about it." Tribute Tales: in Memoriam Alternate SirThopas wrote an outstanding story about twin betray called Tribute Tales: In Memoriam (http://www.literotica.com/s/tribute-tales-in-memoriam). I urge you to not continue any further until you read his story first –or this tale may not make too much sense. SirThopas offered readers to make their own ending. This is my attempt at an alternate ending. Again I urge you to read SirThopas Tribute Tales:In Memoriam (http://www.literotica.com/s/tribute-tales-in-memoriam). ++++++ ...Did you read SirThopas Tribute Tales:in Memoriam yet?...last chance... OK for those who wish to miss out on the great story SirThopas wrote called Tribute Tales:in Memoriam here is a summary of the story. Chris the husband was on a trip -his wife Andrea died in a freak slip and fall shower accident. Chris then left his young son William in the care of his wifes twin sister Amy. The stunned Chris tries to mourn for the death of his wife Andrea. Chris then comes to find it was not his wife Andrea who died in the freak accident at his house-but the twin sister Amy. The twin sister Amy died while covering for a long term swapping/affair arrangement between the brother John and Chris's wife Andrea. In the aftermath Chris's wife Andrea assumed the dead twin sister Amy's life. An excerpt from the confrontation...Tribute Tales: In Memoriam ++++++ "Chris..." new tears sprung to Andreas swollen face. "Please. I've dreamt for so long of being able to tell you the truth, of finding some way to come back to you. Please! Now we can be together, again! I know you've missed me." I looked down at her, then around at the middle class domesticity of her little world. I had to admit, I had missed her. And then I knew what it would take for me to take her back. "Okay," I said flatly. "Kill John." I've never seen fear spread so clearly across a person's face. "What did you say?" she asked. "Kill John," I repeated. "You cheated on me. You betrayed me. You lied to me. You let me believe you were dead, and for what? To avoid having to own up to your own failure as a wife and a mother. Okay. What John did to me was just as bad. He fucked my wife, for years, behind my back. And when his wife died he said nothing. He let me believe it was my loss, not his. To protect his little world he destroyed mine. And he's been living my life, with my wife and my son, creating memories with them that I am not a part of, for two years. I don't know if I have it in me to hate you, but I sure as hell hate him. If I mean so much to you, if you want me back so badly, that you can murder your lover, I honestly and truly will be willing to try and take you back. To try and rebuild what we had." "But...why?" she was horrified, her eyes darting like an animal looking for escape. "Because you killed me. And he stood at your side and claimed all the benefits of that. So if you kill him, then and only then will I know that I mean at least as much to you as he does." "That's not..." "I'm not debating it, Andrea. And I'm not going to compromise. If John is dead, there is a future for us. If he is alive, there isn't. Anyway," I spat on the ground, "the son of a bitch should really be with his wife, don't you think?" "You're scaring me, Chris. This isn't funny." "I'm not joking. You don't have to do it. You can just keep living here with him. Either way, I'm taking my son William." "What?!" She leapt to her feet. "You wouldn't!" I stared at her, genuinely surprised. "Of course I'm taking him," I stated. "And there's not really anything you can do about it, AMY," I emphasized the name. "I'm his sole surviving parent unless you want to reveal to the world who you really are. And while I don't claim to know much about legalities, I imagine that doing so would get you in quite a bit of trouble. Stealing a dead woman's identity for the last two years? Forging documents, deceiving officials? How much of Andrea's life insurance money went to you and John? How much of it did you spend? Not to mention how your mother and Andrea's and Amy's friends and colleagues might take the news. Hell, it's quite a story. Crazy enough for major news agencies to pick up. And it certainly wouldn't get you custody, would it?" She was sobbing now. "I can't believe you would do this. I don't know you anymore!" +++++++ I left Andrea -aka Amy crying, walking to the porch opening the sliding door where John was standing behind the glass. "What did you say to her!" John yelled at me. "Oh nothing, just that I hope you and your original twin cunt of a wife Amy meet real soon in hell." "Chris you..you.. heartless Son of a Bitch!" John said, grabbing my arm. I stared at John until he dropped his grip. "I'm the heartless son of a bitch John? You and my wi...that creature out there –lie, betray, cheat, conspire, cover up, stab me in the back, try to steal my son-and I'm the heartless Son of a Bitch?" I paused for second. "Well what does that make you two individuals then?" John had no answer, he turned and ran outside to Andrea aka Amy. She was still sobbing, but kept shaking off any attempt John made to embrace her. I walked to the stairs calling my son William. He came out of a room, climbing down the steps slowly. "Hey Will buddy!" I said grabbing him in a hug. "Great News! You get to come stay with me now!" William looked a little uncertain. " but Dad..I kinda like it here." "I'm sure you do son. But I bet you are going to like it even more at my place. My complex has a built in swimming pool and there is a dirt bike track at the end of the street behind our place a little ways." "A DIRT BIKE TRACK!" I saw Williams eyes get wide. "Can I get a dirt Bike Dad?" "Sure Will, I think you are old enough. A bunch of boys in the neighbor have them-so you want to be able to keep up. We'll need to get you riding lessons first." "Coool Dad!" Then William suddenly got a mournful look on his face. "Dad what about Mom? I mean..you know the SECERT now, can't we get back together as.. like a family. You are not mad at me for keeping the secret are you? I promised Mom about her secret." "No son I am not mad at you. You're my boy, I will always love you no matter what. But I am going to be straight with you-no more lies. I am more upset with your Mom and what she did. It does not mean she loves you any less. We are family, Family is not supposed to keep secrets from each other. Family needs to help each other-can't do that when you hide secrets. You and me-we need to have each others back." William still was not convinced. "Dad you sure you are not mad at me about the Aunt Amy ..um secret thing?" I put my hands on Williams shoulders and looked right into his eyes. "No son I do not blame you at all in any way shape or form. Do I wish you had come to me right away?-Yes. But that is over now we need to keep open with each other. Always tell the truth." I squeezed his shoulders. "Got it Sport!" Williams face brighten. "OK Dad. Um..does that mean Mom can come with us?" He pointed at Andrea outside on the porch by the above ground swimming pool. She was in an animated discussion with John. We were too far away to make out the words they were saying, but neither one looked happy. I rubbed Williams hair. "Son I think your Mom has decided to stay here and take care of your Uncle John." I put a smile on my face to keep down the bile. "But hey buddy she got you all to herself for almost two years-now I think it's time for just us men. What do you say-just us guys-two Dudes?" "Ah.." William still looked doubtful. "You know there is a Karate place in the strip mall by our complex. If you promise to keep your grades up when school starts, we can get you enrolled." That sealed the deal. "Wow DAD that is...Frigging AWESOME." William gave me a fist bump. "When are we going?" I thought for second. "We will start out in the morning. Tell you what, I have some time off work coming. Let me rent a little RV camper, we can drive cross country to the complex. Do some camping along the way." William was more then excited. "Really Dad! Cross country and camping! Just like the pioneers in the olden days?" I chuckled. "The early pioneers may have used a different type of GPS and didn't have as many KOA campgrounds -but aside from that it should be the same." "OK Dad I am going to pack right now." Will gave me a high five and bounded up the stairs. ++++++++ I was laying on my bed in the hotel late that night. I had a lot to do in the short time since I had left my son William and that two faced brother John with my traitor liar wife Andrea -or Amy -or whatever she called herself today. I had rented a little RV, plotted out a trip, checked out spots to view and camp sites along the way. When my cell phone rang I was half asleep, but I became wide awake when I saw the caller ID display. It read "METRO POLICE". Trying to keep calm I answered the phone and identified myself. After a quick verification of my name and relationship the authoritative voice on the other end of the phone took a more sympathetic tone. "I am sorry to say there has been a tragic accident at your Brothers home tonight..." I interrupted him in a panic. "MY SON –William-is he INJURED! What happened! Is William OKAY!" "Sir please calm down. Your son is fine, he has no injuries, he was not really involved in the accident. We need you to come over and take custody of him. Things are..hectic here and may be for a while." "I will be right there." I snapped shut the phone terminating the call without even saying goodbye –grabbing my rental car keys while racing for the door. ++++++ At the house there were several patrol cars with lights flashing as well as an ambulance. A Con Edison Utility truck was in the driveway, along with a van from the city morgue. A gaggle of neighbors were gathered on the sidewalk and lawn. It took me a few minutes to clear the crowd, finally meeting up with the lead Metro Patrol Officer. "I am sorry for your loss." The big man in blue began. "Looks like what happened here was your brother." He consulted his notes. "Ah..John.. was attempting to repair the Air Conditioning and got himself electrocuted." I looked at the Metro PD Officer with a stunned expression. "..seems the house had one of the old outside air handlers with those open contact closures for power. My grandparents used to have one of those kinds. The high voltage contacts used to get dirt and stuff on them. Had to clean the contacts once or twice a season." The officer closed his book. "Your brother John must have forgot to turn off the main circuit breakers before cleaning the contacts-poor son of a bitch." The officer looked around then lowered his voice so only I could hear him. "We think him and the missus had been drinking this evening. We found a bottle of wine and whiskey on the kitchen table. Both bottles were almost empty. The M.E. will tell us more later, not that it matters. Looks like a tragic accident. Any fool knows booze and high voltage are a bad combination." "Where is my son now?" I asked. I was still in shock. The Police Officer slapped me on the back. "Quite a boy you got there. Really kept his cool. Knew enough not to touch the body, He even turned off the breaker and called 911. He is upstairs now beating the pants off one of my young officers in some type of Alien Nazi Ninja video game." My body sagged in relief. "What about his moth..his aunt?" The officer pointed at a window upstairs in the house. "I believe the paramedics put her in bed. When we got here she was in hysterics, almost absolutely incoherent. They gave her a shot to settle her down. We wanted to bring her to the hospital, but she refused to go. Last I saw the lady was resting." I turned away jogging up the steps into the house. ++++++ It was 2AM when the last patrol car left and 4AM before I could get William off his adrenaline rush and to sleep. I felt like I had just fallen asleep myself when someone was shaking me. Sunlight was peeping thru the curtains, it must have been mid-morning. Rubbing my eyes I saw it was Andrea jolting me awake. Pushing Andrea away I sat up on the couch to face her. Andrea looked like hell. She was still wearing clothes from the night before, her hair was a tangled mess, with make-up streaked all over her face. We stared at each a few minutes before either of us spoke. I finally broke the silence. "Congrats Andrea-or are you still going by Amy? I didn't think you had it in you." "Chris wait." Andrea interrupted me. "There is something you need to know..." "Wait let me guess." I got in before she could finish. "You're not really Andrea, but a third sister Amber. No no wait wait-you are a brother in dressed in drag..um..how about Adam. Am I close?" Andrea was quivering as she grabbed my sleeve. "Chris you need to listen to me, this is important." I shook her off my sleeve. "Whatever it is Andrea it can wait until I get some coffee." With that I got up and made a move toward the kitchen. "I didn't kill John!" Andrea shrieked at me. "Sure whatever." I stretched and stifled a yawn. "I am not sorry John is gone, although you could have chosen a less painful method, even he didn't deserve the way he died." I emptied some coffee in the maker. "Andrea or Amy- try to keep your voice down, you will wake up William." I gave in and yawned not even looking over my shoulder at her. "Johns death was an accident, I get it. That is your story and you are sticking to it." "No Chris you need to listen to me. It's about William, we need to get him some help." "True enough Andrea.. I really wish you would have waited until William was away. No child his age should see two deaths while so young. Plus you laying on him the heavy burden of being sworn to a secret that hurts the most important male figure in his life-me. You have really done a number on William." I plugged in the coffee pot. "I know I said if you offed John I would try to get us back together. But you scare me. I am going to take William and get us away from you for a while. After everyone gets their heads screwed on straight we can talk, but as soon as William gets up we are out of here." Andrea put her hands on top of her head like a little kid then said. "I didn't Kill John, and it was not an accident. OUR SON WILLIAM KILLED JOHN!" Andrea then collapsed onto the couch. I was on Andrea so fast she never saw me coming. Grabbing Andrea by the shoulders I pulled her up, putting our faces inches apart. "What kind of mother are you! You would kill your lover then try to pin the murder on your own son!" I released Andrea and she fell onto the couch. Andrea was trembling. "I swear it is true. William told me last night. That why I became unhinged right before the police came. I thought they were going to take William to jail." I was pacing the floor in front of the couch. "You know I thought you could not sink any lower then fucking around on me, then moving in with your lover after stealing your dead sisters Amy's ID, rather than having the guts to face the truth. But trying to sacrifice your only child to save your own skin.. that is.. that is just pure evil." I stopped to face Andrea "You may really wish to withdraw that 'Mother of the Year' entry in Family magazine." "Chris we need to get William help. I swear to God it is the truth-I did not kill John. William told me he did it. William caused Johns death. It's the Truth!" "Truth Andrea?" I spat at her. "Is it the kind of truth I can expect from a cheating liar who stole her twin sister's identity and forced her own son to lie to cover up her affair? That kind of truth?" Andrea had her head in her hands. "Ask William. He said he heard our conversation on the porch where you claimed the only way we would get back together is if John was dead." Andrea looked up at me. "William had helped John repair that old AC unit a few times. Our son William said that when he saw John go to work on the AC unit last night he snuck down the stairs and activated the breaker to send power to the AC unit. That is what killed John." Andrea reached out at me. "William did it on purpose, he killed John. William said we could be a family now that John was gone..." "LIAR!" I almost shouted at Andrea. Then a thought hit me. "Andrea did you get William to swear to another promise? Make up this story and get him to admit to Johns death to save your own skin in case the cops started looking around?" "NO Chris –never, I.." "I see it now. You got William to lie once to protect your ass-why not do it again? Worked once-should work again. Who is going to doubt a little kid. Heck he would only get some juvie time or maybe a stint in a psych ward." I shook my head. "My God woman, you are like one of those creatures that eat their young. Andrea you need some serious help." I stopped pacing. "William and I are out of here. Stay out of our way, I have never touched a women-but you try anything to stop us -you are going down. I will deliver you to the police myself." "Chris you can't do this. Just ask William, we need to think of William." Andrea pleaded. "Oh I am thinking of William." I said walking up the stairs. "Which is why if you stand aside I am not going to expose you. Turning you in would make Williams life a living hell of trials, lawyers and courtrooms, plus seeing his mother in a prison or mental hospital. William does not need that kind of circus. But you Andrea -you got to get some help." ++++++ William was laying in bed with his headphones plugged into the MP3 player I got him last Christmas. I thought "Thanks God he did not hear us downstairs." I pulled off his headphones and William sat up on the bed to face me. He had a worried expression. "Hey Champ how we doing?" I said rubbing his shoulder. "OK I guess" William replied looking at his feet. "Remember what I said about telling the truth and no more secrets last night? Well I gotta ask you some questions and you need to be 100% straight with me-OK?" William sighed before answering. "OK, but what if you get mad?" I gave him a quick hug. "Son I got your back. But I need the truth if I am going to protect you. Understand?" William nodded his head. "Ok then why don't you start at the beginning William." ++++++ I walked down the stair from Will's room stumbling as if a zombie. I felt like all the blood had drained out of my body. Andrea was looking up at me from the bottom step. "Chris you are as white as a ghost! What did William say? What did William say?" I brushed past Andrea without speaking, then dropped into a kitchen chair. "My son is a murderer." Andrea rushed over to me. "OH my God NO! Chris we need to get William help. He didn't know what he was doing! He is just a little boy! William didn't understand what he was doing to John when he pulled that breaker." "William is a killer." I said in a monotone voice. "No Chris-Johns death was a tragic accident. We will get William therapy and never mention it again.." "It's gone too far." I interrupted Andrea "Chris we can't turn Will over to the police. Will's involvement in John's death was a onetime thing. We can find people to make our son better!" "I am not talking about William and what happened in John's death Andrea." Andrea looked at me strangely. "Chris what death are you talking about?" "Johns death was not Wills first involvement." Andrea had a confused expression. I grabbed Andrea by her shoulders. "Your affair both figuratively and literally destroyed lives." I stared directly into Andreas eyes. "WILLIAM KILLED YOUR TWIN SISTER AMY TOO!" Andrea twisted away from my grip. "NO! No! Amy died in a freak bathroom accident when she slipped in the bathtub. The Coroner said she hit her head. Got knocked unconscious- Amy drowned." Tribute Tales: in Memoriam Alternate I looked out without seeing anything before I spoke. "William said he knew all about Amy, you and his Uncle Johns little "meets" for a long time. William said he thought it was some kind of sleep over grownups did when I went away." I cracked my knuckles. "One day when you and John were shacking up at Amy's house, William went over there. He saw -as William put it "Uncle John putting his thing into your butt". William said you were yelling at John to stop." Suddenly the thought of how Andrea had always refused me anal flashed into my brain. Andrea must have read my mind. "Oh Chris –it was just that one time. John had been bugging me forever about it. Said if I ..you know ..ah..let him screw..um..use my behind and I didn't like it-you would never know what you were missing." I could not believe Andrea was trying to do damage control, it stunned me. "Yea whatever Andrea. I don't give a crap about your ass-fucking with John. Except William thought John was hurting you so he ran back home to get Amy. Thought she would help." Andrea was shaking her head just mouthing "No No NO." "When William found Amy in the bath She tried to con William that she was not Amy but Andrea-his mother. Convince William that everything was alright." I paused a second and looked at Andrea. "William said knew better, knew Amy was lying. He got mad and pushed Amy when she stood up. Amy slipped and hit her head." "Oh My God that is terrible!" Andrea said covering her mouth with her hand in horror. "But see Chris it was an accident! William didn't kill Amy, it was an accident!" I ignored Andrea and kept talking. "William was still upset. He said he held Amy's head under the water until she stopped making bubbles." Andrea opened her mouth but no words came out. "William said he was so scared. He ran over to tell you about it. But you –my loving wife-put together that cock and bull story lie about it being your death. William was all confused about the lies, who to tell the truth to, a lot for a little boy to handle. When months later William got up the nerve- letting you know he knew that you were his Mom-you made him promise not to tell anyone. Andrea was now rocking back and forth wordlessly. "So Andrea- Was your time fucking John worth completely fucking up my sons mind? How does it feel to be the mother that may have created a sociopath." "Chris don't say that! DON"T SAY THAT!" Andrea jumped off the chair. We got to get him help! Find people who can make him better! We can do this!" I looked at Andrea like she was crazy. "What do you mean WE? You are not his mother anymore, just some grieving Aunt who lost her husband. I think you have done enough damage to my son." Andrea grabbed my arm. "Chris I know you hate me, but I don't care-you cannot do this alone. It is not about you or I anymore. This is going to take both of us to help our son William." I shook off her grip. "Andrea after what you have done to our son-they will be making snow angels in hell before I let you near my boy." I turned to walk away. "I'll go to the police." Andrea said. "What!" I said spinning around to face her. "You heard me Chris." Andreas voice was a little more than a whisper. "I will never tell them about William's actions. But I will confess my part in the cover-up and Identity theft. I don't care what happens to me. I don't care if they jail me for a thousand years for ID theft, conspiracy, insurance fraud, whatever. William's welfare is more important and you cannot do it alone." I stared daggers at Andrea before speaking. "A little late to be so concerned about my son William's welfare and the truth isn't it?" Andrea looked down at her feet. "Chris I screwed up hugely and I know it. But I am not going to make another mistake and leave you alone with OUR son William and this mess we created." "The mess WE created?" Andrea looked up at me. "Chris I am responsible for 95% of this -I admit it and will spend the rest of my life making it up to you and William. But I will not abandon you again, and I will never abandon my son ever! If I go to the police -your telling me to kill John and our son William acting on that demand will get you in as much trouble as me." I pushed my hand thru my hair. "Andrea in most twin fairy tales -there is a good twin and an evil twin. You and your may-she-rot-in-hell sister are both evil twins." +++++++ So now we are back together. However our bedroom door locks from the inside and an elaborate security system is in place, used to monitor our son William. William meets bi-weekly with a therapist who did ground breaking work with rehabilitation of child soldiers in Rwanda, Sierra Leone and other parts of war torn Africa. The Therapist is trying to modify the imprint made on William that murder and lying are family accepted norms for solutions to a problem. The therapist explained it is a dangerous time in our son Williams life. William behavior untreated could evolve to believe violence is proper to solve conflicts common to teenagers in everyday life. He claimed a bad grade, comment by a schoolmate, any of these were landmines. Normal teenage rebellion against us -his parents could have tragic results. The sale of my house, and the insurance money from the death of our "spouses" have allowed Andrea and I to work little. Instead we became helicopter parents, hovering over William all the time. We are lunch room monitors, school/classroom volunteers, and I coach any sports team Will is on. Everything is done to intercede and watch over Wills behavior. Of course it did not help that both we and the therapist were telling Will that lying is bad –but to lie about the Aunt Amy/Uncle John incidents-if anyone ever asked. We were always on guard. The therapist explained that while Doctor-patients privilege was in play-if he saw actions that William was to be an imminent danger to himself or others the therapist was required to notify proper authorities. I met with a well know criminal defense attorney and the advice he gave us was bleak. Our son William would certainly be taken away and at best was looking at Juvie until age 18. Worse was our state had a long history of trying children as adults. Andrea and I were not immune either and the state had an extensive laundry list charges they could file against us. I left paying the attorney a large retainer fee. His firm's number is a speed dial on all our cell phones. I am resigned to trying to get my son William's mind on the right track, no matter what the sacrifice. Our family and friends thought it was "nice" that the widow "Amy" had taken up with her twin Andreas husband, after her own husbands tragic death, to help raise her nephew William. A "mutual support system" they all said. No one knew that Andrea -the person I trusted the least, was the person I had to now rely on most to watch my back. Tribute Tales: In Memoriam Amy looked like I'd slapped her. "I...I didn't mean..." "The hell you didn't. I knew this was a mistake. I just didn't realize how big...I would never have dreamed you could be so hateful. I'm sorry that you're so suddenly bothered by my happiness that you can't even find it in yourself to be polite to a stranger. I thought you'd be..." I trailed off, biting the inside of my cheek and taking deep breaths to calm down. Amy bit her lip, a tear rolling down her cheek. "You don't understand, Chris." "Then tell me!" I shouted. "If you have something to say to me, just fucking say it. What is it you keep avoiding? You want to tell me that you hate me? That you love me? What..." I trailed off. She had given a little shake of her head at the word 'hate,' but when I said 'you love me' her face had just collapsed. She was sobbing openly, moving backwards as if to get away from me. She stumbled and fell to her knees, and made no attempt to get up. "Oh my god," I muttered, "you're in love with me." She cried harder at that. John materialized from somewhere, looking furious, and crouched down next to her. She leaned in to him, and he held her as she cried. "I didn't know," I said. "You should go," he looked very tired. "John, I..." "Just leave." So I did. The next day I came over only to say goodbye to William. He was sorry to see me leave early, but not real sorry. Kids. Amy was nowhere to be seen. John was curt and polite. Almost apologetic, but without warmth. After that, my relationship with Karen never had a chance. Learning about Amy's feelings had thrown me into a spiral of confusion, and being treated so coldly by the people I loved had left her feeling slighted and unwelcome in my life. It took me three months of obsessing over this new problem before I finally found the courage to meet it head on. I offer no excuses for this. I booked a flight back home, took two days off work so I would have a four day weekend, and decided to surprise mys and have this out with them. One way or another, this had to be resolved because it was a very real threat to my friendship with them and my relationship with my son. Ugly though it may get, I had to clear the air. I squared my shoulders, did pushups with my mind, and readied for launch. William answered the door, wearing a swimsuit and dripping water on the floor of the entryway. "Dad!" He shouted, jumping in to hug me and drenching my shirt. "Hey, buddy," I laughed. "Where'd all the water come from?" "We got a pool! It's above ground, but it's big and it's way fun and Uncle John can stay underwater a long time! I only heard the doorbell cos I came in to get my watch so I can time him." "Wow," I raised my eyebrows. "I wish I'd known. I woulda brought a suit! Are Uncle John and Aunt Amy out back, then?" He gave me a look I could only describe as suspicious. "Why are you here?" I was a little hurt, but I put a smile on for him. "I missed you." He remained aloof. "I like it here." I wasn't sure what to say, so I just said, "That's good. Now can we go say hello to Uncle John and Aunt Amy?" When we came out the patio door, John was in the pool and Amy was standing near the edge talking to him. I was struck, as always, how like Andrea she looked. She even had on a modest red bikini that looked just like one Andrea used to have. "Mom!" William called, running to Amy. I frowned; I didn't like him calling her that, no matter how traumatic Andrea's death had been for him. She turned, smiling, towards his voice and froze. She saw me and put her hand to her mouth in shock. I stared at her. Suddenly I couldn't breathe. I put my hand up to my heart. My mouth opened and closed. She grabbed a towel off a nearby chair, but it was past too late. I'd already seen the truth. There was no scar on her stomach. Heaven knows what made me look for it at all. Maybe it was a reminder that this was Amy, so that I could get past the feeling of looking at my dead wife. Or maybe I was just taking in her figure the way a red blooded male does. I don't know. What I did know, suddenly and with certainty, was that the woman standing before me was Andrea. Andrea, who was not dead. Andrea, who had let her sister take the fall. I fell. "Chris!" she cried, rushing towards me. My chest was tight. I couldn't focus on anything. Even after I landed, hard, on my right arm I still had a sensation of falling. Andrea reached out to me and I pushed her away. I heard her shouting at John, saying something about a heart attack. He was running towards the house. William was standing where I'd left him, eyes wide as saucers, mouth hanging open. "No," I heard myself say. "Notanattack. Not anattack. Not an attack." I took deep breaths, closed my eyes, and tried to focus my thoughts. Finally, I started to gain some control. "I think I'm in shock," I told the thing that wasn't Amy. "Just leave me alone for a few minutes." "Chris," she put her hand on my shoulder, eyes all weary compassion. "GO!" I shouted. She jumped, and pulled away from me. John pulled her up and led her and William into the house. I sat there for a long time, not knowing what to do. I just stared at the swimming pool, and experienced a true absence of thought. It was cathartic, so I let it be. Some time later...maybe a half hour or more...John came out. He was dressed now, and he looked scared. "How are you doing?" he asked cautiously. I looked up at him without feeling. This man was not my friend. He was a thief. "Amy's dead," I said flatly. He winced. "Yes." "She was at my house, in my shower. Andrea was...with you?" He looked down at the ground. "Why?" He didn't answer at first, just studied the ground in front of him. "I think Amy should be the one to explain it to you." "Andrea. Amy's dead." "She goes by Amy now." He raised his eyes to mine, and there was defiance in them. And a fear. What was he thinking? That I was going to take his family the way he took mine? From the doorway, Andrea's voice called out. "John, let me talk to him. There's no reason for fear." He kept his eyes locked on me. "You'd better not try to hurt her." "Don't worry," I kept my voice neutral, "I'll come for you first." He clenched his jaw, fingers moving apprehensively, and then turned and stormed into the house. He reached out to hug Andrea on his way by, a territorial move, but she brushed by him with an apology. Andrea was dressed now, too. She had on khaki capris and a soft blue tank top. She was beautifully tanned from the summer, and had the first hints of new lines in the corners of her eyes. She was thirty-six now, I realized. Not dead, not gone, but not really the same person I'd mourned and missed. Two years of living behind her. Two years in her new life, of which I was a bit player. "Why?" I said, and that one word was like a cork on a bottle of champagne. It popped out and unleashed everything. Suddenly I couldn't stop crying. "Why?!" I repeated. Andrea was crying, too. "I'm so sorry..." she started. "WHY?!" She sat down and put her hands over her face. "I didn't know what else to do. When William called we didn't even begin to think it would be as bad as it was, so we didn't tell him...tell him the truth. When we found Amy we went into panic mode, and by the time we could even begin to think about how to handle the situation it was too late. The lie was bigger than the truth. I couldn't just tell the hospital and the police and William that we'd...about who had died. And it was just so chaotic. I couldn't stop crying long enough to say much of anything, so I kept telling myself I'd figure out a plan as soon as I could calm down. I tried to call you, to tell you Amy had died. I thought maybe if I did that, make that commitment to truth, then I could find a way to explain the rest of it by the time you got home. But I couldn't get ahold of you, and I kept digging myself in deeper with every step. I had to call my mom, I had to talk to you, I had to console William. And John..." she flinched at the anger that lit up my face, "...I just had no time to think and every added moment compounded it until I felt trapped. Please believe me when I say that watching you suffer and not knowing how to reach out to you or help you was worse than losing my sister could ever be. It killed me to watch your grief. But I knew that if I told you the truth it might be worse. I wanted to protect you from what you're going through right now. You thought I was dead, that damage was already done and that pain was already upon you. Tell you the truth would only add new pain, and I couldn't do that. I watched you waste away, and knew that I couldn't hurt you any more. I just couldn't." "So you left me on my own." "I came over as often as..." "You left me alone. And when I started to get close to someone else you did everything you could to drive them away." She shrugged, head hung low. "Meanwhile, you've been living it up here with your new husband and our son. Is that the deal? You get to play wife to another man, and you get the added bonus of keeping William with you, while I live and die alone? Was that your plan?" "No..." "When did you tell William?" She started crying again. "It's not like you think..." "When?" "He figured it out a few months ago. He was looking through a photo album and saw a picture of...of Amy...in a swimsuit. I think he'd been too young to really pay any mind to the scar, when she...when she was with us. But he realized the truth almost as quickly as you." "Pretty fucking smart for a ten year old. How'd you get him to keep quiet?" She shrugged again, looking away and wiping tears from her eyes. She wasn't going to answer. I sighed. "How long were you cheating on me, Andrea?" This started another round of sobbing. I waited. I felt no sympathy. "You have to understand," she said at last, "that until I met you I had never really experienced individuality. Amy and I seemed to share every like and dislike, every urge. When one of us liked a boy, the other one would fall for him too. It created problems for us. In high school we developed a system, and after that we were always able to handle it amicably. Until she met John, and fell in love." "And you did, too." She nodded. "We had our system. Rules, I guess. She found him, so I had no claim. However, after about seven months of heartbreak I confronted her. I couldn't deal with it, the jealousy and the hurt. I couldn't live with it every day of my life. I couldn't watch my sister, who had my face, look so happy with the man that I loved. So we talked it over, with John, and in the end they offered to let me switch places with Amy for one week. We all had to deal with some jealousy issues and uncomfortable talks at first, but I was just so grateful to have at least some small portion of time with this man who I...who I loved." She wouldn't look me in the eye, now, as she continued her bizarre tale. "It happened again four months later, and after that it got...easier." I closed my eyes and shook my head. She continued. "It was right after their wedding that I met you, and that changed everything. You see, you are the only man I have ever desired that my sister has not. You are the one thing I had that made me different from her. You were such a gift. And I loved it, and I loved you. For the next five years I was yours and yours alone." I could see where this was going. "But you loved him more." "No. Not more. But I still loved him. And I missed...being with him. I was very confused, and..." she blushed, but didn't elaborate. "So when your work started to take you out of town more and more I went and talked to John and Amy. And they agreed to...share with me, again." She held up her hand defensively. "But only when you were out of town. Never when you were here." "Of course not," I snapped. "Your sister didn't want to have to sleep with me, just so you could get your fix." She looked back at the ground. "I would never have chosen a day with John over a day with you. I never even considered being with him when you were in town. Amy would always stay at our house, so William wouldn't know what...what his mother was doing." She sniffled. "Well, I'm glad you were able to find ways to avoid feeling guilty." She sighed. "I always felt guilty." "Then why keep going? Was he that much better?" "No." "Did you love him that much more?" "I said no! I loved you! You, far more than him. You're still the love of my life. He knows that. It scares him." She gave me an oddly hopeful look. Ridiculous. "How do you reconcile that love with even one of the things you've put me through, Andrea? How do you justify ANY of what you've done to me, if you love me? Hell, how could you justify doing this to someone you hated?!?" "I can't. But...Chris, if you....I....I would come back to you in a heartbeat. I...I'd rather be with you. I've missed you so much. I just felt so trapped." Before today, if you had asked me what I was willing to suffer or endure to get my dead wife back, I would have said anything. Now, I knew that wasn't true. I wouldn't endure this. I looked at her, and I knew I was doomed to a lifetime of looking back at this moment, and all the moments that came before it, with a brutal clarity. I stood up. "I'm sorry," I said. "Chris..." new tears sprung to her swollen face. "Please. I've dreamt for so long of being able to tell you the truth, of finding some way to come back to you. Please! Now we can be together, again! I know you've missed me." I looked down at her, then around at the middle class domesticity of her little world. I had to admit, I had missed her. And then I knew what it would take for me to take her back. "Okay," I said flatly. "Kill John." I've never seen fear spread so clearly across a person's face. "What did you say?" she asked. "Kill John," I repeated. "You cheated on me. You betrayed me. You lied to me. You let me believe you were dead, and for what? To avoid having to own up to your own failure as a wife and a mother. Okay. What John did to me was just as bad. He fucked my wife, for years, behind my back. And when his wife died he said nothing. He let me believe it was my loss, not his. To protect his little world he destroyed mine. And he's been living my life, with my wife and my son, creating memories with them that I am not a part of, for two years. I don't know if I have it in me to hate you, but I sure as hell hate him. If I mean so much to you, if you want me back so badly, that you can murder your lover, I honestly and truly will be willing to try and take you back. To try and rebuild what we had." "But...why?" she was horrified, her eyes darting like an animal looking for escape. "Because you killed me. And he stood at your side and claimed all the benefits of that. So if you kill him, then and only then will I know that I mean at least as much to you as he does." "That's not..." "I'm not debating it, Andrea. And I'm not going to compromise. If John is dead, there is a future for us. If he is alive, there isn't. Anyway," I spat on the ground, "the son of a bitch should really be with his wife, don't you think?" "You're scaring me, Chris. This isn't funny." "I'm not joking. You don't have to do it. You can just keep living here with him. Either way, I'm taking William." "What?!" She leapt to her feet. "You wouldn't!" I stared at her, genuinely surprised. "Of course I'm taking him," I stated. "And there's not really anything you can do about it, AMY," I emphasized the name. "I'm his sole surviving parent unless you want to reveal to the world who you really are. And while I don't claim to know much about legalities, I imagine that doing so would get you in quite a bit of trouble. Stealing a dead woman's identity for the last two years? Forging documents, deceiving officials? How much of Andrea's life insurance money went to you and John? How much of it did you spend? Not to mention how your mother and Andrea's and Amy's friends and colleagues might take the news. Hell, it's quite a story. Crazy enough for major news agencies to pick up. And it certainly wouldn't get you custody, would it?" She was sobbing now. "I can't believe you would do this. I don't know you anymore!" "Sure you do. We've changed in the last two years, sure, but not that much. I'm not some mysterious monster. I'm the same man who loves you so completely that I would even forgive you for this. If you end John's life, and get away with it, then we can be together again. And you'll see that I'm still the man you loved. And I will even learn to trust you again, in time. But we cannot rebuild anything, you and I, while he's still here. I'm not telling you to do this because I want to hurt you. I'm not doing this to punish you. I'm only doing it because it's the way things have to be. And I'm not taking William to push you into it, I'm taking him because he's my son and I will not leave him here to be raised by my enemy. Not anymore." I turned and walked towards the house. "Please don't do this to me," she sobbed. "I'd rather die." I could see John watching us through the glass doors, no doubt wondering what we were saying. "You know I've seen that one already," I told her over my shoulder. "I didn't really like it the first time."