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Amy stood at the bottom of the stairs she had climbed ten thousand times. At the top, her children's rooms were empty; they were at her parents. Across the hall, she knew her husband was waiting, anxiously.

Her watch read 6am. He'd been waiting all night.

Slowly, she climbed the stairs, her knees so weak it felt like she was floating.

Much to her own surprise, she'd gone through with it. Would he actually be ok?

He'd begged her for months, maybe longer. He said it was what he wanted, but was it really?

What if she'd made a big mistake?

At the top of the stairs, she paused outside her bedroom. The room she'd slept all these years. The room where she'd made love to her husband hundreds of times. The room where she'd conceived all three of her children.

What if, opening this door, she'd ruined it all?

Turning the handle, Amy pushed the door open. She was so nervous, she ...

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