Page 121 of King of Ashes
After scrolling through them, I choose the one that looks the most damning. Since she’s my wife, she will have to make the decision to pull the plug on me.
What is one more act of deceit? This time, I will change my strategy––just us in the penthouse for as long as we fucking need to make up.
I refuse to entertain any other outcome.
I will make her choke on the truth, but she will never doubt my love again.
She will forgive me.
She will learn to accept the past. I would have changed it long ago if it were possible.
I warned her. Time and time again. It’s life or death with me. I survived, and now her life is irreversibly bound to mine.
She can hate me all she wants. My love for her hasn’t been conditioned on her loving me back.
I won’t apologize for making that decision. Only for her finding out.
I knew that fucking doctor was trouble, but killing her will only worsen everything between me and my wife when I am trying to plead my case, hoping the jury finds me not guilty this time.
28
ZARA
It’s done. He’ll die, and then I can finally be free of him––escape the madness.
Bile shoots up my throat, and I snap my seat belt open, slapping a palm over my mouth as I rush toward the back of the jet. Inside the small bathroom, I lock myself in and bend over the toilet, spewing the poison coating my belly in long, constant spurts.
My chest heaves with each heavy breath, my throat sore from vomiting to the point of exhaustion. A putrid taste lingers on my tongue, and I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, hugging the toilet like it’s the only thing anchoring me.
A knock sounds, the flight attendant asking, “Ma’am, is everything all right?”
No. Nothing is all right. Nothing will ever be all right.
“Go away.”
With every minute, it feels as if my life essence slips away. My emotions riot in my chest, shattering my heart.
I will never overcome his loss.
I will never overcome his love.
Killing him was the only way. I know it, but sadness weighs heavily on me, killing my spirit too.
I stay there, caring only about soothing the hole he carved in my chest, making me bleed out with this love I want gone like him.
Tears spill from my eyes, each drop splashing in the bowl and reminding me of what I did. Heaving again, I expel more venom. I can’t stop throwing up, draining myself of energy. I don’t think I can stand even if I want to, weak to my bones.
Every time his face flashes before my eyes, it hits me anew with such violence that it knocks me down.
I dab at my tears with the back of my hands, but I can’t stop them from falling. Just like I can’t stop my heart from hurting.
What did I do?
I shouldn’t have left him there to die.
I should have kept his damn ass alive and let him face the fact that he lost me.
I am about to ask the pilot to turn the jet around and tear his damn soul from hell if I need to, so he can stay the fuck alive and suffer just like I have for years. I am not done with him. I will never be done with him, dooming us to an endless cycle of hellish pain.
