I expected to be second in his life when I came here. I understood about the Slayer and her duty. I knew of his duty, even though I didn’t necessarily believe every word he said. But I’d known his father and I knew his father’s Slayer. I knew the score.

I expected to be second.

I didn’t expect to be third.

And I certainly didn’t expect his Slayer to be second. I don’t even know that she knows that she is. I doubt her fragile ego could handle the blow of not being first on Rupert’s list. But I do know it. And that, more than the thought of every story – every nightmare – every horror coming true, that is why I have to leave.

Not because I’m afraid for my life, although that’s true enough, but because I’m afraid for my heart.

I’ve loved him since I was a teenager, fantasizing about the older man who came to see my father from time to time. I loved the man who, even though he was a good ten years older, still managed to take the time to say hello to me, treating me like a person and not some silly girl. 

I love the man who, even though he hasn’t seen me in years, still welcomed me with open arms.

But it hurts, quite desperately, to know that though he’s with me for 
many reasons, the main reason he is with me is simply because he cannot 
be with her. 

What’s even harder for me, however, is that now that I know her, now 
that I’ve seen her love of the Slayer and Rupert, I understand why he’s 
in love with her. I can see all the things that he sees in her and 
admires. I can imagine him taking her under his wing, as he did with 
me, and showing her all there is to know about love and life and living. 

And I can picture her showing him a thing or two as well. 

But they’re both so afraid of being hurt again, so scared of death and 
dying, that they’ve forgotten to live in the moment. I thought perhaps 
that Rupert was remembering, but duty reared its ugly head and reminded 
him of his destiny. 

And so long as he has his destiny, there’s only room for one woman in 
his life. 

Unfortunately, so long as he has Willow, he’s got to make room for two. 

Which leaves me out in the cold, even though I’m the one in his bed. I 
try to make myself scarce when she comes around, afraid that I’ll upset 
the delicate charade they all cling to, desperate for normal life while 
they fight the evil that surrounds them. 

So desperate for normalcy, when all they need do is embrace the 
differences that make up their lives. And live with the fact that, as 
hard as they try, none of them will ever be normal. 

All he needs to do is say those simple words, and she would be his. I 
can see her as his girlfriend, his lover, his wife. All he need do is 
say please, and all she need do is say yes. 

Instead, all he asks her for is prophecy and research. All she does is 
argue. When you can see that all they want to do is forget the world 
for a while and lose themselves in each other. 

But I’m afraid that isn’t allowed. 

That would be admitting something. 

So they’ll continue on with this fragile lie, looking for excuses when 
everyone would accept the truth. But the truth, when it doesn’t concern 
monsters and things that go bump in the night, is something that none of 
them are prepared to handle. 

Least of all the two of them. 

Their intelligence comes at the expense of their emotions, and I’m 
afraid that it’s doomed to remain that way forever. 

Unless something…or someone gives them a push.

After all, they say if you truly love someone, you want them to be 
happy.

And I suppose it’s the least someone who used to be a teenager can do for the older man she fell in love with.

--End--