Romantic Homicide

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ow in the room. I watched in complete disbelief as my husband, the man I had loved and trusted, gave away every ounce of affection and care that I had once believed was reserved for me alone. The way his eyes soften

ive silence, but the words wouldn't come. So, I forced myself to cough-loud and sharp-making the sound fill the room, cutting through th

back to me, jerked his head around, his face twisting into a frown, as though he'd been disturbed by an unexpected

te. His words were devoid of warmth, of care. His voice held no trace of the man I had once known, the man who had sworn he would always love

body. The feeling was raw, deep, and heavy, like something inside of me had been crushed. Every part of me, every piece of my soul that had once felt saf

pain-were now cracking and breaking down. It was as though the very walls I had trusted were now betraying me, leaving me completely exposed and vu

the small bump that was growing beneath my clothes. It was the only thing that still made me feel connected to something real, something

ess in my chest. I didn't want to break down in front of them, not yet. I wouldn't allow myself to cry in front of them, even though every part of me screamed to

with each step, the distance between us seemed to grow. When I reached the guest room, I closed the door softly behind me, shutting myself away from the world outside.

hings between Jake and me weren't right. There had been the signs-the growing distance between us, the late nights he'd come home, the coldness that had s

nt. He had taken the love we had shared and thrown it all away, leaving me with nothing. It w

soaking my cheeks. I could feel the sobs shaking my body, but through the pain, my hand instinctively moved bac

red, my voice shaking with emotion.

seemed unbearable, something inside me began to shift. It wasn't just the sadness or the anger that stir

his. But I knew that for my baby, I had to keep going. I couldn't give up, no m

pieces, I felt a small spark of determination fl