[ WP ] You are a detective who has closed every case but one , a serial murderer who has taunted you all your career . After retiring you start to suspect your significant other .

`` Why do we do this to one another?... Why do we hurt the one's we love?'' She whispered lovingly in my ear as the steak knife plunged deeper into my gut. 
 
 It had been an odd year leading up to our latest anniversary, Claire was n't her usual talkative self, she was distant with an almost harrowed look on her face, like she was in mourning. I was worried obviously, had been for some time, ever since my retirement she seemed to lack something, that spark, that energy, which I loved her for. I thought it was our son moving out to go to college, maybe she felt like she lacked a sense of purpose in her life, not uncommon for housewives of a certain age living deep in suburbia. 
 
 `` I do n't know'' I grunted attempting to remain conscious. 
 
 `` Not surprising, you never knew anything, Paul. You were too stupid! Do you think I wanted you to find out like this? I wanted you to find me for yourself, to know me, I wanted it to be so special.'' She twisted the knife. 
 
 Twenty five years on the police force, twenty years a detective and seventeen married to the love of my life, the only blotch on my perfect record, my perfect life was the Hobbs End Butcher. Always three steps ahead of the department, the FBI, me. The profilers said his knowledge of police procedure, likely meant he was ex law enforcement, or current, but they never liked to err such suspicions in front of us. His brutal killing of men, much taller and imposing than he was, likely linked back to something primal, oedipal. the killing of an abusive father figure perhaps? Maybe that's why he singled me out, maybe I reminded him of whoever it was he was really trying to hurt. 
 
 `` I thought I knew you'' 
 
 `` No you do n't, Iv'e always had to try to show you myself, but you never saw me'' 
 
 When I found the first note meticulously wrapped in a red ribbon next to a bloodied unrecognisable corpse of a local gangbanger, I knew it could n't be good. I'd seen combat, I'd killed men, it's what made me so good at my job, when you see someone breathe their last breath because of you, it's not something you can just forget about. I was good at spotting that desensitization in others, that latent guilt, the same kind I felt. But when killers start toying with you, there is no guilt, there's only pride in a good days work and I could never understand that, never will. That's why I could n't catch him. 
 
 `` Why, why do this? Why now?'' 
 
 `` You retired, like a coward retreating to a comfortable life, I could n't live like this anymore. You needed to see the real me, like you used too. Before you gave up.'' 
 
 The notes had been getting progressively personal, somehow he knew how to get under my skin, I feared for my family, their safety. Months even years would pass between killings sometimes but the tell tale note would always be there mocking me for my complacency and lack of clairvoyance. I grew tired eventually, I'd see the note with its spine chilling message and shrug it off, the good looking men in sunglasses and black suits had taken over the case almost fully due to my incompetence in catching that ghost. All I cared about was going home to Claire, making up for lost time, I thought she'd be happy when I retired. 
 
 `` But I never gave up.'' 
 
 `` What?'' Her grip on the knife loosening. 
 
 `` I could n't, I tried but could n't, I hid it from you, at first to protect you, but then because I was n't sure if I really knew you.'' 
 
 I wanted to understand why she was upset with me, but the latest murders drove me to look into the case again instead, the same all too familiar brick wall forming around every corner. I hid it from her as best I could I did n't want her to think I was falling back into bad habits, besides she seemed to be having enough problems herself without me adding to them. But there was something about the latest murder, the note, there was something familiar about it, something less mocking but more loving. `` We've grown old together, shared so much with one another, it's time we stop playing these games''. My suspicions arose when I caught a glimpse of her writing my anniversary card, almost the same words, surely a coincidence? But pieces began to fall in place like they never had done before and the closer we got to our anniversary the happier she seemed as if a great weight was about to be lifted from her shoulders. I hoped for divorce papers, perhaps a surprise second honeymoon to reignite the spark, anything else. 
 
 `` You knew?'' 
 
 `` Of course I knew, I love you, you could n't hide from me forever.'' I brushed her face tenderly, tears of joy welling up in her eyes. Sharing a last moment before the grim reality of the situation dawned. `` Actually I think I do know why we hurt the one's we love'' I reach down calmly attempting to identify the all too familiar feel of cold steel. 
 
 `` Why?'' 
 
 `` Because they hurt us first'' She hears the metal clink too late. 
 
 I got home late from the precinct, attempting to find something, anything in the case files to dispel my fears, nothing. I walked into the candlelit living room, the table laid out in meticulous detail for our anniversary dinner. My nerves calmed as I saw her laying out the steak dinner a smile greeting me as I approached the table, taking my seat. 
 
 `` You're late'' 
 
 `` I'm sure my gift will make it up to you'' 
 
 `` Not before I give you mine'' 
 
 The card was wrapped meticulously in red ribbon, dread filled my heart before the steak knife pierced my abdomen, I took a moment to collect my thoughts as my body fell to the floor prostrate in shock and remembered the sidearm attached to my ankle. I loved my wife but lately I had n't trusted her. 

