She hadn’t been able to relax since it had started. She was sure she had started it, though, and the notion nearly drove her mad. She hadn’t known it would be so ugly; after all, she’d never even raised her voice against him.
“Darling, I’ve been in love with only you all this time, and I swear she means nothing to me!” she remembered him pleading. “I’ve stopped seeing her, I promise.”
He would think she had lost her mind, the way she’d reacted.
And perhaps she had, for wasn’t it her hand which had waved the kitchen knife around, forcing him to stumble as he tried to back slowly out the door?
She rested her palms on the windowsill, examining the tough backside of her hands, framed by their mottled red nails, thinking of the way the knife handle had felt in her palm, heavy and invincible.
She didn’t think it was possible to both hate him and love him so furiously, each emotion threatening to strangle her. And she would never again see him, of course, not after she’d very nearly tried to kill him, not even if she spent the rest of her life saying she was sorry.
“Darling, I’ve been in love with only you all this time, and I swear she means nothing to me!” she remembered him pleading. “I’ve stopped seeing her, I promise.”
He would think she had lost her mind, the way she’d reacted.
And perhaps she had, for wasn’t it her hand which had waved the kitchen knife around, forcing him to stumble as he tried to back slowly out the door?
She rested her palms on the windowsill, examining the tough backside of her hands, framed by their mottled red nails, thinking of the way the knife handle had felt in her palm, heavy and invincible.
She didn’t think it was possible to both hate him and love him so furiously, each emotion threatening to strangle her. And she would never again see him, of course, not after she’d very nearly tried to kill him, not even if she spent the rest of her life saying she was sorry.
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