I have always been a very jealous woman.
Thankfully, it never really seemed to be a problem. I had a wonderful husband, Ryan, who doted on me endlessly, giving me everything I could want.
“I love you princess”, he would tell me, “I love you more than anything else in the world.”
And I could tell. Every day when he got home from work, he would snatch me up in his arms and kiss me passionately before telling me all about his day. We would eat dinner and watch television together and I always had his attention. Our life in the bedroom was never boring and our romance was a thing of fairytales.
However, a few years in, things changed.
I suspected that there was another woman.
He would come home from work and, after giving me a hasty kiss and greeting, would go straight into our baby daughter, Avery’s, room to play with her. I began to question myself, and wonder if I wasn’t good enough for him. After all, I had a post-baby body with a caesarian scar. My hair was thinning and the wrinkles around my eyes were beginning to become significantly well-defined. Why wouldn’t he be falling in love with another girl?
I bought new lingerie, lit candles, poured wine, put on more makeup than I had in a long time. But my husband just smiled at me and kissed me gently before telling me that he was too tired tonight. He rolled over and went to sleep.
I cried while I washed my face.
Things didn’t improve with the next coming years either. Any hopes I had of this new love disappearing had been dashed, as it seemed even more obvious. He stopped trying to hide it.
When he would climb into bed, he smelled like perfume and would sometimes have little specks of glitter in his hair and beard. He stopped asking me on dates because our daughter had ballet, or soccer, or whatever. All he ever wanted to do was play with Avery. Between dress up and tea parties with her, and the hours he spent at work, it seemed like I didn't get to spend even a second with him. He clearly had no interest in me anymore. One night, the three of us were sitting in the living room, and Ryan and I were watching television while Avery brushed her doll’s hair. Ryan turned to me and said,
“She’s so beautiful. I think I love her more than anything else in the world.”
I smiled sadly, then excused myself to take a shower, and I cried harder than I ever had before. I couldn’t take it anymore.
I decided to take matters into my own hands.
Ryan came home from work late one night, put his bag down, and walked right past where I was sitting on the couch. He went into Avery’s room to give her a kiss goodnight.
And then he screamed.
“Our baby girl!!”, he shrieked, cradling her bleeding corpse in his arms, “How could you do this to our baby girl?!”
What can I say? I have always been a very jealous woman.
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