“Hey, Fred,” Corelle chimed as she walked into her room. “I was wondering why you weren’t at the crooked tree today.” She plopped herself down on her swiveling computer chair and began to get undressed, taking off her shirt first. “Hm?”

“Sorry, love, I lost track of time while with Sophie, Jump, and Shani.”

“Yet you knew when I came home? I don’t think so, Fred.” She flung her bra across the room, landing on her bed next to Fred.

“You can believe whatever you’d like, but I got home only seconds before you arrived.”

“Fine, I’ll believe you, but only because I love you.” There was an awkward silence wherein Corelle slipped on her home clothes. She swivled around in her chair a few times before Fred stopped her and bore into her eyes. She sighed and looked away, uncomfortable with the silence. “So… your birthday’s coming up, isn’t it? …what would you like?”

Fred grabbed Corelle’s face to face him, then kissed her ferociously. Her cheeks grew hot as Fred’s tongue explored her mouth. Just when she was getting into it he pulled away and she bit her lip, wanting more. “I want nothing,” he said, walking back to her bed and sitting on it as if nothing happened.

“Oh, come on, Fred,” she whined, “you can’t be serious! This is the first birthday I get to celebrate with you! Can’t I get you something? Anything at all?” From his place on the bed he eyed Corelle severely, sending her messages with his eyes. She frowned, knowing she’d disappoint him. “I’m sorry, love, but I can’t give you that. Wait four more years, alright?”

He laid back and sighed deeply and said, “I’m heading home,” before getting up and heading for the door.

Waves of fear and distress came over Corelle and she jumped up to stop him. “Wait--!” Fred raised an eyebrow and looked down at the puny girl. He stood a staggering 6’5” while she was a mere 5’4”; she was tiny when compaired to him. He waited for her to continue, but she became nervous. “Eh… um… If you’d like… we could… um…” Her words fumbled over one another, and her voice was a mere mumble, hardly audible to a giant like Frederick. But over the past year they’ve been together, he’s known how to understand her clearly and completely. In truth, he always knows what’s best for her.

Gently, Fred rested his hands on her shoulders and bent down to kiss her forehead. Like a parent to a child, Corelle thought, and frowned. Then he leaned towards her ear to whisper, “It’s not you, it’s me.” He pulled his head back to rest it on her forehead, him looking directly at her, yet her looking at her feet. “There’s nothing you’re doing wrong. In fact, you’re doing everything right. It’s all me. I have some of the worst timing ever… Remember, love, it’s not you, it’s me.” He left her alone, then, and left her room.

“Why can’t we ever work out?” she mumbled to herself. She hated that she loved him, and she hated how he knew everything right for her. It was always him for her--always self sacrifice--but it never seemed that way. It always looked like he was doing everything selfishly, which one might as well say, since he loved her deeply and wanted her to be well--to satisfy his own selfishness. He wanted her to himself, even though he knew he wasn’t right for her. This was madness.

“Your father will be coming home soon. I’d best leave now. Have a nice evening, love,” he called as he left the house, locking the door behind him.

She didn’t even watch him leave.