"Have you ever done this before?"

            "No," she answered.  "Have you?"

            "No," he replied.  "It'll be okay."

            "How do you know I'll be okay?" she asked softly, looking up at him.

            Filling the bathtub with ice, no water, was hard.  It was a rather large claw-footed tub, but she had to be cold.  If she wasn't, she wouldn't be able to make her point.

            "It's okay, its okay, just calm down," he pleaded lovingly.

            "Okay, okay," she whispered over and over, trying to make it better.  She couldn't; she loved him and she didn't want this now.

            Cleaning her face one last time before she got ready, she used hot water to make the shock intensify later.  She applied some blue mascara and light pink lipstick.  She took off her robe leaving her in the underwear she was wearing at the time: a plain black bra and silly boxers that he thought were funny.

            She yelped, "Wait, please, I, not right now."

            "Are you okay?  Are you okay?" he asked with little concern.

            "I'm okay," she whimpered.

            She made one last swipe across her arm and sunk into the ice.  She left one arm outside the tub, hoping it would pool.  She sunk further and further, only the arm and her face exposed.  Her eyes were blinking shut and her lip quivering, similar to what happened only hours before.

            She grabbed the blankets around her shoulders and tried to keep warm.  She was surprisingly cold; he was hot.

            "I love you," he said, kissing her on the forehead.

            "I love you," she said in a distant voice.  She started to tear-up; she hid under the covers and pillows as he got dressed and promised to come back later.