My Husband Wants To Kill Me

Chapter 4 Am I Going Mad?

The fury in my chest threatened to erupt like a volcano.

No, I needed to stay calm, get some sleep, rest, and build my strength to fight them!

Dawn was breaking as I forced myself to lie down, yet those sentences replayed like a movie in my mind. I bit down on my arm to stifle my cries, unintentionally soaking the pillow with my tears.

I must have only dozed off for a moment when I was jolted awake.

Eddy looked at me with concern. "Babe, how come you're still asleep?"

Struggling to sit up, I glanced at the clock—it was already noon. "Oh, is it that late? I've been really sleepy lately."

He touched the corner of my eye gently. "Crying again? You've been so down lately. What would you like to eat? I'll make you something."

I turned my head away, shifting the tear-stained pillow behind me, and flopped back down. "I feel weak, and I have no appetite at all."

Eddy hugged me and lifted me into a sitting position. I half-opened my eyes to meet his deep, sapphire-like gaze—so beautiful yet so distant—recalling last night's revelations.

His warm lips pecked mine. "Daydreaming? Still not fully awake?"

I mustered a weak smile and gently pushed him away. "Honey, you should get to work. I'll be fine, I can look after myself."

Then, I glanced at my phone with a surprised expression.

"My phone's dead. Can I borrow yours? I want to call the restaurant downstairs. Their spicy and sweet Vietnamese spring rolls might just tempt my appetite."

My eyes narrowed slightly as I scanned his face for any telltale microexpression.

Without hesitation, he pulled out his phone. "You know the password. It's our anniversary. I'll go change."

My heart skipped a beat—I clearly remembered trying that code last night!

As he walked into the walk-in closet, I quickly accessed the messages.

There was no sign of Black Widow. I checked the contacts, and no Black Widow there either!

Could it all have been a nightmare?

I almost drowned in a wave of relief, but then I saw the bite marks on my wrist, sending a shiver through me.

No, it wasn't a dream!

*****

I watched my husband, Edmond Claude, come out of the closet. He was undeniably handsome, his high cheekbones casting shadows over his eyes, his jawline firm and enticing. Anyone would consider him a catch.

He was buttoning his shirt cuffs, his chest muscles subtly outlined under the fabric, a blue tie draped over his hand.

I stepped forward, put the phone aside, and began tying his tie. He looked down and gave me a kiss.

"Do you remember when I gave you this tie?" I asked.

"Of course, I remember everything about us. That was when I first got promoted in New York, right?"

I locked eyes with him, smiling, "Yes, this tie is quite old now, and you've kept it."

"Only three years ago, not that old. Not long after, we moved back to LA. I was really stunned the first time I walked into this huge apartment," he said as he glanced around the room.

I joked, "Didn't expect your wife to be so wealthy, huh?"

He laughed. "It was a surprise. I knew you were well-off, but not this much. Still, I pursued you because I knew I could offer you something better in the future! Trust me!"

With that, he kissed me deeply.

I stared at him intently. "Eddy, will you always love me? Forever?"

He chuckled, lightly flicking my nose. "Of course, forever, until the end of my life! If you ever think I don't love you, it must be an illusion!"

An illusion? If it wasn't a dream, were all those messages I saw last night just my imagination?

Was I really sick? Depressed, paranoid, schizophrenic? If I truly became mentally unstable, forgetting passwords, getting lost when I go out, not remembering my actions, potentially suicidal, forcing him to abandon his work and care for me—this couldn't be the life he wanted, could it?

Was this the outcome he and that b***h were hoping for? To make me believe I was going mad?

My shoulders trembled. Tears welled up in my eyes, and he gently wiped them away.

As he hugged me close, I murmured, "Sorry, Eddy, I've just been really sensitive lately."

After he left for work, I mechanically picked up my electric toothbrush in the bathroom.

But catching my reflection stopped me in my tracks.

My once vibrant chestnut hair now clung lifelessly to my scalp. When had I last washed it? My once youthful and joyful brown eyes now looked dull and lifeless. I instinctively touched my face and found my skin dry and slack. Pores and freckles more pronounced than ever—this wasn't the skin of a 26-year-old.

I bit my pale lips. Where had the vibrant, angel-faced Plaza Princess of LA's elite circles gone? Could she come back?

Whether Eddy was deceiving me or not, one thing was clear—I was truly ill.

I stepped out of the bathroom and called Eddy, "Baby, can you take the day off today? I need you to come with me to see Mark."