Tethered Spirit: Bound To My Murderer Husband

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bag was smaller than a dime, yet it sat in my pal

ice stagnant, thick enough to choke

as I held the plastic up to

y. And on the back, etched in microscopic letters I had p

ict a

my throat,

old her it was too ostentatious for a stay-at-home mother.

ad

simply because she claimed she needed a ru

en setting. She had worn it like a talisman. She was wea

desperate note and to

ort. Jeremy Fuller. Age six. Ca

lled

le. I let the woman I vowed to cherish and the son I neglected die on the

nged to a wounded animal, not a man. I gripped the heavy c

al diploma, shattering the glass

or swu

ok concerned; she looked annoyed, her ga

eckage. "You're acting like a petulant child. Your father

itative rhythm on the floor. That sound used to ignite m

I truly saw her f

red, expensive scrubs. The absolute,

I been s

ice was a whisper, but it

eyes, planting a

eed to strategize. If that

nne!" I roared, s

ched, retre

the desk to close the distance. "And my s

ms, her defensive wal

.. he was likely terminally ill already. You ca

ed the door. You called her a whore. You watched a child t

from her face, in

done,

, stunned.

. If I see you in this hospital again, I

the mask of civility

ou're just a weak man who couldn't keep it in his pants. You deserv

eemed to st

room was absolute

e terrifying, seductive second-I wanted to wrap my fingers around it. I

I di

mth. "But I am going to live. I am going to live every single day rememberin

ed, turning

e threw over her shoulder as she

, leaving a ringing

rt as if it contained the last beat of my life. I curled into

he empty, judging room. "I am

, praying for the darkn

against my wet cheek. It felt like a hand. A so

nothing there but empty air and the