"It's over Paul," she said when I walked in the door that night. No "Welcome home Paul," or "Where the hell have you been Paul?" or even "What the fuck is going on Paul?" Just "It's over Paul." Those three words chilled me to the bone.

"What do you mean Meg?" I asked thickly. My tongue was still heavy from whatever I had taken earlier, not that I knew what that was. She frowned at my barely understandable words. I saw a tear run down her cheek then, and I wished I hadn't said those words. I wished I knew what was going on.

"I can't take this anymore Paul," she said, choking slightly on the words. "My life is falling apart around me, and you're not doing anything to help. Julia's first recital was yesterday. Where were you? Did you forget? Were you too busy with your drugs and your little boytoys?"

"Huh?" I asked. She slapped me, and I felt the fog that had been clouding my mind lift. Even in rage, her gift worked to cleanse those she touched.

"I don't believe you!" she screamed. I bit my tongue to keep from asking her to avoid waking the kids, because I knew it wouldn't help. "You've been gone for three weeks Paul! The Duke called yesterday to say you were fired. Julia asks me every night when Daddy will come home. What am I supposed to tell her? That Daddy's decided he doesn't love us anymore? That he prefers boys to me now? And don't "Huh?" me! I saw you last night with that whore. How old was he Paul? He certainly didn't look much more than sixteen! Am I not good enough for you anymore?"

"Meg, I..." I started, but I was interrupted by a small squeak from my right.

It was Julia, standing in the arch that joined the hall to the living room. She was barefoot in her frilly lavender nightgown, clutching Dusty, the stuffed bunny I gave her when she was just a baby that was falling apart, to her chest. She rubbed her eyes sleepily as she stared at Meg.

"Mommy, you're loud," she said, and then she noticed me. "Daddy!" she exclaimed happily, running to me. I put my arms out to gather her up for a big hug. "Julie missed you. You're a bad Daddy, 'cause you missed Julie's recital."

"I'm sorry sweetie," I said.

"You better not do it again, or you'll be in big trouble," she said sternly. Then she softened again. "You're not going away again, are you Daddy?"

I wanted to say no. I wanted to reassure her that I wasn't going anywhere. But I couldn't, since I wasn't sure if I could do it. I hadn't planned on going away in the first place. So I took a deep breath and prepared to tell her I would try, but before I could open my mouth, Meg grabbed Julia out of my arms.

"Don't touch her!" she snapped. "I said it's over, and that means it's over!"

"Mommy, you're hurting Julie!" Julia protested at Meg's almost death grip on the girl. "Julie wants to go back to Daddy!"

"Not now honey," she said gently to Julia. "Mommy's busy with a bad person right now."

"But Daddy's not bad!" she protested, and Meg turned a look on her that was almost a glare. The glare was saved for me.

"I think it's time for you to go back to bed Julia," she said severely, before turning to me. "And you are going to stay right there until I get back here, understand?"

I nodded mutely, not wanting to anger her any more than I already had. She carried Julia back to her room, settling her back in bed and telling her to go to sleep. Then she returned to me, glaring. If looks could kill I would have died then, if her earlier glares hadn't already done the job.

"I don't care what kind of excuse you come up with," she said. "No matter what it is, I know what I saw, so I won't believe it. So why don't you just go back to the drugs, and that boy of yours? You obviously prefer them to your family, so why should we stand between you and what you want?"

"But I don't..." I protested. I couldn't finish though, because she slapped me again at that moment.

"I said I don't want to hear your excuses," she said tightly. "And I mean it. The only reason I'm not trying to kill you right now is because the kids wouldn't understand it, and I don't think I could do it without waking them. So why don't you just go, while I still have the self-control to stay calm?"

"Meg, I..." I said.

"Go," she said. Then she slowly walked over to the kitchen and pulled a large cleaver out of the dishwasher. She brandished it easily, and by the gleam in her eyes I knew she wasn't going to have any qualms about using it, beyond upsetting the children. "Or do I have to use this?"

"I'm sorry Meg," I said, before running out the front door, which was still behind me. I heard her fall to the floor, sobbing almost hysterically, as the door shut behind me. That sound made me run even faster, wanting to get away from the sound of my wife crying like her heart was broken, since it was all my fault that she was crying that way.

I fled into the night, not really caring where I went. I don't remember what streets I took, or where I was planning on going. All I remember is eventually falling to my knees as it started to rain, and noticing that I was in front of an abandoned building, with another man my age standing in front of me. I recognized him; he was the Lord Shadow.

"Well, hello Paul," he said to me, smiling his charismatic smile, the one that had won over people with stronger wills than my own. "Have you finally decided to come home?"

And then he opened his arms to me, where I gladly fled reality once and for all.