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That night, after Xander had come and gone, Willow turned off the lights and laid down on the bed, fully clothed and on top of the blankets. She couldn’t sleep, and when she did she woke up more tired than when she went to bed. It was getting harder and harder to get out of bed each morning. It just wasn’t worth the effort--there was nothing to look forward to, because nothing ever happened except remembering.
When her shift was over, Willow left the magic shop and stepped outside. Tara was there, waiting for her. They looked at each other for a moment. They had each been miserable.
“Hi,” Tara said hesitantly.
“Hi.”
They started walking. It was cloudy and after just a few moments it was sprinkling. Soon it was raining hard, raining for real. They stopped and huddled under a doorway.
“Willow, I’m sorry. I’ve been a fool.” Rain streamed down her face.
“No—it was my fault. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I know—but you were right—it—you know I didn’t mean to.”
“I know.”
“I missed you.” Tara smiled. “I mean, it’s only been like four hours since we fought but God I missed
you.”
Willow’s face was moist, not from the rain. “Work sucked,” she said with a sob. “I couldn’t even concentrate.”
They embraced and laughed with relief. Things were going to work out, things were going to be okay.
And then Tara stepped back a few feet, and then there was a big red spot on her chest and then she started to fall forward and Willow caught her but Tara wasn’t moving and then . . .
Willow had trouble sleeping. All of her dreams ended this way.
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