The pounding in my chest has to be breaking bones. The pain is like a red hot knife placed on my heart, and I know I can’t hold it together for much longer. Looking at the solid black bra in my hands is like looking down the barrel of a loaded gun pointed right at my head.

 

I know what it means, and it confirms everything that I’ve been pushing away for the past year. Shaking like a leaf, I walk into the living room. He’s sitting on the couch, watching football. On any normal day, I would be curled up next to him having no idea what was going on in the game, just soaking in his presence. I stop in my tracks. I can’t do this. I know this will change everything, and I don’t know what I’ll do. If I ignore it, then everything can remain the same. We can keep going day by day, looking over the obvious. No, it’s been too long. I’ve known that she’s been in his life, and it’s tearing me apart. 

“Who is she?” I whisper loud enough for him to hear me. He turns, sees what I’m holding. Shock and fear both flash across his face. 

“I… isn’t it yours? Where did you find it?” He asks, regaining his composure and masking his original shock. 

“Don’t. I know. I’ve known for a long time. So please, just be honest,” I say, my voice wavering. He gets up from the couch, and I back up, my back pressed against the wall. I know I shouldn’t have said anything. He gets this way, and he always ends up hurting me. I have the scars to prove it. 

“Babe, don’t be crazy. It’s probably yours, and you just forgot you had it. Just calm down.” His soothing voice is like a siren to my ears. I clutch my head trying to think straight. 

“No. No! I know it's not mine, and I know it’s some whore’s that you’ve been seeing.” My voice starts rising, rising to a panic level. I yank off the wedding ring on my left hand and throw it at him. With ease, he reaches out and catches it. His eyes switch from soft to murderous in a matter of seconds. 

“Now, I know you didn’t mean to throw that, so I am going to let that slide. Because you know if that was on purpose, we’d have issues,” he says with a voice sweet as honey, although there’s fire behind those words.

 

My mind is telling me to run, but I am frozen. Stuck in place as if I am a lamb in the shadow of a lion. He moves closer to me, hand outstretched. 

“Come here babe, it’ll be okay. You should go lie down for a minute. Maybe then you’ll think straight.”

 

I hesitate for a minute. If I go to him, then it’ll be a never-ending cycle, but I could run. He’s now an arm’s length away. Feeling around behind me, I find a vase sitting on a table. In a matter of seconds, I grab it and swing at his head. The vase shatters, and he goes stumbling backward, crashing into the couch. I see this opening, and I sprint towards the front door. Fumbling with the locks, I hear him moving behind me. I swing the door open and trip down the stairs leading to freedom. Hitting the pavement, my head slams into the concrete below. My vision goes red, and the world starts to spin. His shadow casts down on me. I feel his arms around me, squeezing. 

​

“I’ll help you clean up inside. I wouldn’t try that again if I were you.” His breath is hot against my ear. My legs are flailing in his grasp, but there is no escaping the iron grip.

 

Back inside, he sits me down on the couch and moves to lock the door. It's my only chance. Taking his revolver out of a drawer, I load it, aim it at the back of his head, and fire.

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