The last few days had been hell and I felt miserable. I couldn’t believe I’d told Bernadette about Molly, and I knew she hated me for it. I didn’t know if she hated me more for what I did to my wife or what I did to her by spying on David. I couldn’t stand being so close to Bernadette but feeling like she could barely stand to be around me. I was desperately hoping her anger would cool. But I also expected this morning to be like all the others. Instead, I was shocked to find a man in my office, his back towards me, when I arrived. Immediately I could tell something was wrong, as Bernadette, on the other side of the room, looked more frightened than I’d ever seen her.

“Run, Edgar,” she screamed the moment I stepped into my office.

“What is going . . .” I tried to ask, but she cut me off.

“He has a gun,” she cried at the same moment the man turned around. It was Mr. Coleman and he did indeed have a gun. My veins turned to ice. My first thought was for Bernadette, and how I could get her out of here safely. It was difficult, because she was on the far side of the room, with Mr. Coleman between her and the door.

“Mr. Coleman, what an unexpected surprise,” I said, stalling for time.

“Bullshit,” he said, his face grim. “You fucked my life and now I’m going to end yours. I’m going to kill you and then I’m going to kill your fuck toy of a wife or assistant or who-the-fuck-ever she is.”

“Now, I really don’t think that’s necessary. I’m sure we can work something out. Maybe some compensation for your trouble.” I very slowly walked towards him. I knew I needed to be within arm’s reach if I was to have any hope of grabbing the gun from him, and even then, I didn’t know if I could get the gun from him before he could shoot me.

“Compensation for my trouble?” he asked sarcastically. “You can’t afford the millions I’m going to lose in this divorce.” He laughed, and it was an ugly sound. “I think I’ll take my compensation out in blood.”

“Let Bernadette go,” I suddenly pleaded. “You can kill me. I won’t even put up a fight, but please let Bernadette go. This wasn’t her plan or idea, she’s just an assistant I hired for the job. Just let her go.” I didn’t know if I could disarm him, and I wanted Bernadette out of here if things went bad, and they looked like they were going to go very badly.

“She means that much to you? You’d sacrifice your life for her?” Mr. Coleman glared at me, daring me to back down.

“She does, and I do,” I said sincerely. I knew in my soul it was true. I’d never met anyone like her, and I would do anything I could to keep her safe.

“Good. Then I’ll shoot her first. You can watch her die.” As he said this, he turned to Bernadette. She screamed.

Before he had even turned all the way around, I lunged at him. A shot rang out, so loudly my ears were ringing. But I didn’t feel any pain, so the shot must have missed. I tackled Mr. Coleman to the ground and we wrestled on the floor, a deadly fight for his gun. He spit in my eye, and I blinked, having a hard time seeing him.

I got in a punch to his stomach and he groaned, but he didn’t let go of the gun. He managed to elbow me in the neck, and I gasped. It hurt like hell, but I was fired up on so much adrenaline that I could fight through it. We continued trading blows, each of us fighting for the gun. I tried to grab it from him, but I couldn’t get it. However, I was in his way enough that he couldn’t get in a good shot. I desperately hoped Bernadette had escaped.

“You don’t want to do this,” I panted out, desperately, still clawing at his arm for the gun.

“Yes, I do, you fucking scum,” he said and kneed me hard in the groin. I gasped, and involuntarily curled in on myself. It felt like my balls and dick were on fire and the pain was blinding. I saw Mr. Coleman get to his knees and aim the gun at my face. My last thought was of Bernadette.

But as Mr. Coleman fired off the gun, something heavy came crashing down on his head. The second shot went off, and I felt a fire rip across my arm. I fell backwards in more agony than I had ever felt in my life. My right arm was a blaze of pain. I was starting to feel nauseous and getting black spots in my vision.

“Edgar!” I heard someone scream. I forced myself to stay conscious and saw Bernadette rushing over to me. She was holding a shattered desk lamp, and I realized she must have hit Mr. Coleman with it. I looked down to see Mr. Coleman had been knocked out cold.

Bernadette ignored Mr. Coleman and swooped down by my side.

“Edgar, oh dear God, Edgar,” she sobbed. “You’re bleeding. He shot you. I am so sorry Edgar. I should never have gotten mad at you. Please don’t leave me, Edgar. Please stay with me and if you’ll have me I’ll stay with you. Please, just don’t die. I love you, Edgar.”

And then I was floating above the pain, feeling so faint that I might black out at any moment. But I smiled. She loves me, I thought.

“Tell me what I can do,” Bernadette said. She was crying so hard. I wanted to tell her not to cry, but I was having a hard time talking.

“Call,” I barely made out.

“What?” she asked, leaning over to hear me better.

“911. Call 911.” It was the last productive thought I had before I passed out.