His Wife, His Death Sentence

p on the bar's sticky surface. When I stumbled home hours later, the house

the moonlight filtering through the large windows. She saw me

ed," she whispered, her hand bru

cho of how she used to be, how I thought she was. A fli

ed my favorite foods, bought me expensive art supplies I no lon

She was kind. She wa

m, collected them like treasures. Now I knew they were just par

he illusion. His presence made her drop the m

her voice laced with a faint, almost i

n my eyes. "

hardening. "We have the press brunch tomorrow. You n

command. Ke

oftening again, trying to sound sweet. She dropped a

ned my eyes. I picked up the box. Inside, nestled on the velvet, w

front doo

alked in like he

nking in the dim light, was

d thing between them. I was getting the leftover, the second-

ty Hall. She had promised me forever. She had promised to

r me, and the pain in my si

ofa. He stood over me, a smug smile on his face. He nodded towards the kit

part of the man of

my voice bar

airs. "Ellie, darling, your husband is being rude. I just asked for a

hardened as s

" she snapped. "Hudson is our

yes told me there was no room for argument.

my bones. I was tired of fighting, tir

the kitchen. My hands trembled as I took out the eg

attered against the stove, splashing scalding oil

nd Hudson

went straight to Hudson, he

you get burned?" she asked,

unharmed, clutched his arm dramatically. "I thi

't see the red, blistering skin on my

ing and checking his perfectly fine arm. "O

rm around his waist, guiding him as i

of the kitchen, my burned arm throbbing.

d in a hospital room years ago. I'

was just