"Please don't do this." she sobbed.

"I said the same thing," I whispered, pressing the muzzle of my gun into the forehead of the man kneeling before me, "just before this bastard here killed my father right before my eyes."

"Daddy," one of the children cried, and my heart clenched. I was there too, a lifetime ago.

"I know," the woman – his wife I presume, huddling with their three children on the other side of the dining table – whispered. "I know everything, and I'm so sorry. And I understand."

"Hmmm." I grunted. Well, this was new. I spent years hunting down my father's killer. I discovered that his assassin was both highly skilled and highly prolific, which made everyone I encountered rather reluctant to surrender any information. I employed methods that helped, shall we say, grease the wheels of communication, but those that resisted often resorted to threats, begging, bargaining, anything to delay the inevitable. I expected his family to react much the same way. Threaten, beg, bargain all the stages of grief rather unique to situations like this.

Acceptance usually isn't a player in this game.

"You can kill me," the man whispered. I knew his name, but I like keeping things anonymous. You lose some romance and mystery if you know too much sometimes.

"Don't need your permission." I responded flatly. I unlocked my safety.

"Just don't kill me in front of my family," he begged, "they don't need to see this."

"Where was that consideration all those years ago?" I sneered. Behind me, I could hear the eldest daughter shush her siblings and tell them to cover their eyes.

"Aaron," he whispered, and then his voice broke. "You're all grown up now."

"Aaron, you loved cars. Your father bought you a radio controlled car for your birthday and he brought you to the park, every Saturday, and let you drive it around. He loved you so much he even bought a car for your best friend Fred, so you guys could race together sometimes. He'd do an announcer voice and narrate when you made sharp turns, when your car flew over the finish line he made out of paper cups and take out chop sticks with bits of cloth strewn between. He'd take you out for your favorite breakfast afterwards - a bagel with lox. You had such grown up tastes for a kid! He dropped you off school every morning and always said if you do your best, everything else will follow. You didn't live that far from school, only a few blocks, but he loved spending as much time with you as he could, because your mom died when you were so young, and you were his whole world. He had a picture of both of you on his desk. He never stopped loving her, which really pissed off Janine from Accounting. He left work early three days a week to pick you up from school, the other days were your grandma's days, and he always went straight to your school from work, except Fridays, when he'd stop off at home first to set up a surprise for you and wait for you to walk back to your neighborhood with Fred."

"And that was the perfect time to kill him. Wait for him to get back, try to kill him before you returned from school. Because your dad knew something, you see. He knew someone at his aviation company had approved something that should not have been approved, and people died. That person tried to give him money if he'd stay quiet, and oh god it was so much money, it would have changed your lives, but your father wanted to do the right thing. And he was going to testify, bring them justice. And I, I..."

The man began to cry. I tried not to roll my eyes. I knew this speech was coming.

"Your father made me want to be a better man," he continued, "I'm an active member in my community. Every time there's a snowstorm, I'm the one shoveling my neighbor's driveways. I volunteer in a soup kitchen once a month. When Greg down the block died from cancer like your mother did, I organized a fundraiser for his widow, so she could cover her mortgage payments for a year! And I convinced that beautiful woman standing there behind you to marry me, have children with me. They're the light of my life, just like I know you were the light of your father's life. I always think back to those days I tailed your father and saw how much he loved you, how he always tried to do the right thing. And I strive to be that person, each and every day."

He paused, then said, a little too smugly for my taste: "I'm sure you did your research, Aaron. That's how you found me. You know I'm known throughout my community for my kindness and generosity."

"You never turned yourself in though." I pointed out.

The man stop. Sputtered.

"Well I...I thought the best way to honor my victims was to pay it forward. Live a good life, do right by my community."

"And rob your victims's families of any chance of closure. May I remind you of what you did?" My mocking voice got a little sing-songy

"Hey," he screamed, "your dad could have suffered, the contract specifically asked for torture, but I made it fast! True, because you walked in, but he just got a bullet to the head! I took a pay cut!"

"Wow, you skipped the torture," I said sarcastically, "Such hero. Much sacrifice."

"And I let the kid live! I'm a good guy now," he responded hotly. "I recycle!"

With a flurry and agility honed from years of practice, he grabbed my gun, swept my legs out from under me, and knocked me to the ground.

Blinding beams of light flooded the dining room.

"Drop it!" FBI swat agents poured in, seemingly from every direction. The man covered his face while his family, still huddled together at the other end of the dining table, screamed.

"Get the kids out of here," I groaned from the floor, "And make sure they're okay. They didn't do anything wrong. But you–" I pointed at his wife, "you do realize you admitted to knowing about his murders, right?"

"We got it all on audio recording, Aaron," an agent reached down and pulled me to my feet. "It's over, finally. We got him buddy."

"Thanks, Fred."

I closed my eyes, allowing myself to cry.

"Love you, dad."

INFO:

Firstly, how long did the two of you date prior to your engagement, and how much discussion did the two of you have regarding your eventual [undead] lives? Most relationship issues can be solved with clear and honest communication; whether to keep finances separate or combine them, whether or not to have/create offspring, whether to continue a monogamous relationship or allowing for additional vampire brides, etc, these topics should have been discussed thoroughly to determine whether your undead/life goals were truly compatible.

Secondly, what is the age gap between the two of you? Sometimes a marked difference in maturity levels can lead to conflict. Even amongst humans, May–December romances can be quite complicated due to generational differences, so I can only imagine the misunderstandings that must ensue in a 21st century–Pre Industrial era romance. With these generational difference there are oftentimes a great deal of misalignment in what each party assumes are "givens."

My advice would be to sit down and have an honest discussion now around relationship goals and how the two of you plan to spent either her remaining years or eternity together. Good luck.