one of us has to die

One of us has to die. That's what he said on the phone. If we wanted our children back, one of us would have to kill the other.

It was my fault for meddling in his life and calling him out on his grave mistake. It was my fault for naming him a criminal and threatening to take this to the police. It was my fault for following up on my threat. And now, it was my fault for putting my family in danger.

I bury my head into my hands. It was my fault. It was my fault. It was my fault. No matter what happens, someone in this family is going to die tonight, whether it was my husband, my children, or me.

I pick up the gun he left for us and shoved it in my husband's hand, forcefully wrapping his finger around the trigger. I point the gun straight at my heart without hesitating.

"Shoot me."

Fear shines in his eyes, the sea-blue eyes I fell for years ago. I wasn't going to be able to see them anymore. His hand visibly trembles as he slowly pushes the trigger back.

He stops, a tear trickling down his cheek. "I can't do this, Kayla. I can't hurt you."

I take a deep breath, trying to ignore the pounding of my heart as my voice shivers on my next words. "Do you have any better idea?"

He purses his lips, the rosy lips I have kissed every day since we first started dating. I wasn't going to be able to do that anymore. His eyes widen, and somehow I know inside that neither of us is going to like his idea.

"Well," my husband stammers, "What if we...um...don't want our...um...children back?" He says it more like a question than a statement.

He doesn't believe in it. We have lived our years. Our children, aged 3 and 7, were so young. They have the entire world left to explore. They have so much time left to live. It isn't fair to take that away from them because of my mistake.

No. It has to be one of us. I think and think and think and make my final decision.

I grab the gun from my husband's hand and take it into my own, pointing it at his forehead. He looks shocked, a sliver of worry showing in his eyes.

"Honey, please listen to me," I say, trying to convince myself this was the right thing to do. "This mess is all my fault. We both know that. It is true one of us is going to die tonight, but it's going to be harder for the person who is alive.

They will have to go through the pain of knowing that they were the cause of their spouse's death. They will have to go through the pain of keeping this secret as our children grow. They will have to go through the pain of eventually telling our children this, knowing very well that our children could betray them. That is pain beyond death, and it is unfair for you to be the one facing this pain while I, who made the mistake in the first place, happily rest in heaven. I'm sorry, sweetie."

And I pull the trigger.