Goodbye,Husband

While those thugs were tearing into my heart and liver, my dear husband was out wining and dining with his first love for their ten-year "anniversary" of meeting.

I tried to send him a desperate voice note via WhatsApp, but all I got back was, [Don't think this will grab my attention. I won’t go home tonight, you stupid clown.]

Honestly, I breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't come rushing to save me. Knowing him, I'd probably have ended up worse off.

Fast forward three days and there he was, Mr. Top Forensic Guy, analyzing evidence from a city-wide murder that had everyone gossiping.

He was going on and on about the victim's last moments, how she fought for her life and all. Little did he know, he was dissecting the death of his very own wife—the one he couldn't stand, yours truly.

***

So, there I was, tossed in a pile of garbage like yesterday's news. Real classy.

An old man, walking his dog, then stumbled upon the scene and the furry pet chewed a black bag like a toy. The old man figured it was some discarded meat, until out popped a human leg bone. Cue the shock and horror.

Pretty soon, they were uncovering more bodies all over town. It was like a nightmare come to life. The cops were all over it, setting up some special task force to crack the case.

Who got called in? None other than my husband, Steven Craig, the forensic analyst prodigy in town. He was on site, analyzing blood spatters like it was some messed-up art exhibit.

But even he was taken aback by the horror show. "This is some next-level brutality," he whispered, face going pale.

The Criminal Investigation team leader, Xander Young, wanted him to break it down. And Steve was pointing out every detail like he was Sherlock Holmes. "See these stains? Looks like someone did some organ harvest. And those marks on the wall? Poor victim was awake the whole time."

Xander's scratching his head, saying, "So, according to the forensic guys, our victim's a young woman under thirty. I mean, who could she have ticked off to end up like this?"

But Steve got a hunch. "This isn’t no random brutal hit. Someone's got a grudge and they're just getting started."

And you know what? He was spot on. This just went to show, my husband's instincts were sharper than a scalpel.

I'd love to see his face when he finally pieced it all together.

So, they found a ring in the scene, the key physical evidence.

Steven picked it up all nonchalant, but Xander suddenly went quiet and whispered, "Steven, isn't this ring a dead ringer for yours?"

Steven took a quick peek inside the ring, smooth as could be, without a single engraving. He didn't sweat it and just brushed it off. "Eh, it's probably just the same style. These rings were everywhere back then, you know?"

Once he was done, he lingered by the scene entrance for a while, lost in his thoughts. After a bit of contemplation, he glanced down and dialed my phone.

It rang for a few seconds before he quickly hung up, no second thoughts.

"Look at her, acting all high and mighty after throwing fits every day! Whatever she isn't picking up, it’s not her, though!"

He was so sure of himself because our wedding ring had engravings on it.

But seriously, my husband, being the forensic whiz that you are, shouldn’t you know that metal engravings are the first to go? It only took me six months to buff out our initials.