"Funny how calming it feels, this urge, like sipping hot cocoa while soaking in a bubble bath. Three steps to redemption, barely a yard, and then no more anything. Simply walk off the platform, and all the hurt goes away. Please mercy, let it just go away," she prayed.

Transfixed by the blackened tunnel, seemingly vacant of light or hope, Giselle stood alone with her guilt, carelessly close to the edge of the platform. The screen on a mounted schedule noted the 'Orange Line' from New Carrollton was due in fifteen minutes. Another forty-five minutes and the rail would arrive at the Rockville Station, only a few blocks from her home. Too long a ride, too much time to sit in my head, she thought and trembled with unease.

"Aren't you a bit close to the edge, hon," a garbled voice asked.

"I'm fine, sir, I don't ever take chances," she said, parroting Sean's favorite slam.

Sunken globes of red light aligned on either side of the platform began to pulse, alerting passengers of an oncoming train. Much like a toddler who's begun to walk, Giselle took a wary step closer to the ledge, as a morbid exhilaration began to take hold.

"It's my choice. You don't get to decide. How many times, Sean, how many times have you broken your word? Can you even count the heifers you've been with? But I'm supposed to trust you, especially now?" Their last fight, over the phone no less, preyed on Giselle's heart for weeks after the breakup. She knew she had every reason to doubt him, but being right isn't the same as doing right. Forgiving Sean was part of loving him, maybe if she'd forgiven him one more time things would be different.

A light breeze kissed by early winter attempted to steal the little warmth her regrets had missed. In her rush to Sean's apartment, Giselle had pulled on whatever clothing was at hand. As she stood in the near empty subway wearing a light sweater, tank top, and jeans, she couldn't help but wonder if she'd just thrown a jacket over her pajamas could she have gotten to him sooner.

"You're not the only one with a say," Sean yelled. "My family and most of my friends are planning to come. Even the Pastor is willing to rearrange his schedule. Why would I put myself out like this if I weren't going to stand by you? How could you do something so drastic?"

Giselle cringed as she recalled the message he left. She'd have given anything not to have Sean find out. She bought several over-the-counter tests and, like her courage, stashed them out of sight, unused. She knew someone who worked at the hospital, and was able to get a morning-after pill. Convinced it wouldn't be wrong if she didn't really know, Giselle took the pill without telling Sean. Two days later, she had a heavy flow, not much different from her normal cycle, for which she was grateful. Later that week, Sean surprised her with dinner, flowers, and a diamond engagement ring.

"It's dangerous so close to the edge, hon. Anything's possible," the garbled voice warned again.

"It'll be fine soon, thanks for your concern," Giselle replied, with her back to him. Oblivion was coming and it would erase everything. She wouldn't remember Sean's trashed and crowded apartment. She wouldn't have to remember the cut piece of rope that dangled from his home gym. And she wouldn't have to remember Sean, naked on the living room floor, surrounded by paramedics.

The train exploded from the tunnel. Giselle bolted toward the edge. Unyielding brakes locked in place. An iron grip claimed her wrist. Massive wheels slid along metal tracks, as she traced the raw ones on his throat. The station pulsed with a mechanical rhythm. Sean wrapped his arms about her waist. Passengers streamed into waiting cars. Resolve flowed from one to the other. The conductor announced last call, while they savored one more kiss. As the train pulled from the station, hand in hand, they took a final step.