You still smell like him, Go wash again

“You still smell like him, go wash again,” my sister’s words pierced through the air as I mindlessly scrolled through Netflix, desperately trying to escape the weight of my actions.Many might view me as crazy for what I had done, but hatred can lead people to unimaginable deeds, and my hatred for him consumed me.To the outside world, he wore a mask of charm and kindness. But I saw the darkness that lurked beneath his facade.He dictated what I ate, what I wore, and even where I could go. I was forbidden from displaying any emotions that could tarnish his perfect image.It took one moment to shatter my illusions.It was during that time of the month when I was indulging in frosting cupcakes that he returned home, his perpetual anger radiating from him. His gaze fell upon the cupcakes, and with a violent sweep of his hand, he sent them crashing to the floor.He didn't stop there. He intentionally stepped on them, obliterating my small moment of joy.I swallowed my tears, mustering a smile.A sinister smile.“This is exactly why I can't stand you. No wonder you keep gaining weight,” he spat venomously.But I had reached my breaking point. Soon, it would all end.After cleaning up the mess, I sought solace in a hot bath, allowing the warmth to soothe the pain in my abdomen. As tears streamed down my face, I charted out my plan, mapping every detail with ruthless precision.I had thought about killing him. But I didn't have the courage. Or so I thought.That evening, I played the part of the perfect trophy wife at dinner. I smiled, laughed, and pretended everything was fine.Perhaps I wanted to be his trophy wife one last time.Then, as we made our way back to the car, a group of masked men came out of nowhere and snatched him away.Panic gripped me.I screamed. I begged.But they took him anyway.Minutes later, a car pulled up. Relief washed over me, but before I could fully exhale, I felt a presence behind me.“Where's your husband?” a voice demanded, a knife pressing against my waist.I knew I had to comply. With trembling hands, I called the men who had taken my husband. “Bring him back,” I whispered.“We're waiting for your go-ahead.”My blood ran cold.“What?”“You told us to scare him. Nothing more.”I couldn't breathe. My men hadn't taken him. Someone else had… Which meant he was on someone else's radar.Oh, did you think I had killed him?Don't worry, I didn't.I've thought about it, but I didn't have the courage to actually go through with it.I hated the man, but I wanted to be the trophy wife one more time. I tried to stop them from taking him. I screamed. I begged.That didn't do anything.My men were only going to scare him while I plotted my escape. But when those men came, I knew that was it.I couldn't fathom what unfolded after they whisked him away, but I knew it marked the end.He wasn't the best man, so I wasn't surprised he had enemies.One last time, I entered our home and grabbed his cherished T-shirt. It was a relic of the life I was leaving behind.Though I never loved him, a part of my heart was entwined with his. I held the shirt to my chest and closed my eyes. Then I whispered to myself, “I still smell like him. I'll go wash again.”

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