clink of glasses. I stayed on the floor, hidden by a large leather armchai

r her to be

ng her birth

in

now seemed like a prop in a meticulously staged play. The photos on the mantelpiece-our wedding, a smiling couple against a backdrop of

mming a low, mechanical tune that grated on

e walked over to me, his expression softe

ng out to touch my cheek. "I was

a small, involuntary movement, but he n

What's

handsome face, the concerned eyes, and behind them, I saw the monst

y voice surprisingly

ving husband persona snapping back i

but I stepped away, moving toward the stair

something-annoyance? suspicion?

y knuckles white. I had to be sure. I had to see the proof for

rarely entered. It was his space. Neat, organized, and impersonal. I started with his de

one he used for overnight business trips, was sitting on a chair in

tamins. I opened it. The pills inside looked just like the vitamins I' d seen him take every morning. But when

om my medical training. A comm

han the overheard words. For three years, he had been poisoning me, ensuring the doctor' s diagnosis of a

bottle and put it back in his ba

upstairs. I hurried out of

as drying his hair with a towel, dre

better?"

my voice a hollo

ing," he said, his tone soft and intimate. "Maybe we should look into other options. S

y discussing building a family with me, while the pills that guaranteed it would never happ

wer. I just

hrough the chaos. I will leave. I will su

fe. Now, that love was a dead thing, a corpse. And m

talk about it tomorrow,

I felt the bed dip as he got in beside me. His hand rested on my hip, a gest

inking about the past that had been forced upon me. I was planning my future, a future that would be built on the ashes