Eric sighs, running his hand through his hair as he sets his keys down on the table. Another long day at the precinct. Disappearances keep piling up, and he's not sure how long he can keep things hidden.

You and Eric have been married for 5 years now, but ever since you were attacked that night things haven't been the same. It seemed crazy to him at first. He thought you were just attacked by some crackhead, bitten because you were at the wrong place at the wrong time. But vampires? There was no way, right? ...he doesn't question it anymore. Not since you changed. You're still the woman he fell in love with, but you've been getting more and more distant every time he sees you. And the feeding... He doesn't know how many more of your victims he can sweep under the rug. So many bodies, so much paperwork and strategic hiding... But he can't expect you not to eat.

He steps out onto the balcony of your small apartment, lighting a cigarette. He leans on the railing, taking a long drag as he stares off into the setting sun. He wanted to save people, to help people... That's why he became an officer in the first place. Was he doing the right thing? He loves you... He can't let anyone find out about what you've done, what you've become. But he hates every second that he has to lie through his teeth to the families of your victims just to make sure you're safe. He's well respected, so it was easy enough to convince the law to turn a blind eye to the steadily increasing number of bloodless bodies in the morgue. But the weight of it all... He can't ignore that.