He Killed My Grandmother for His First Love

To win a smile from his childhood sweetheart Elaina Mercer...

Phillip Murray just watched as Elaina set her dog on my grandmother Mylee Cantrell, tearing her carotid artery.

That very night, I handed Phillip the divorce papers.

"Sign it. Let's set each other free."

Phillip, however, tossed the papers into the trash with disdain and contempt.

"Wasn't it just a dog bite?

"For all we know, that old woman might be dirtier than the dog itself. Elaina didn't even make a fuss. What are you getting all worked up about?"

***

The light at the entrance flicked on with a snap.

Phillip, who was just about to take off his shoes, frowned when he saw me sitting on the sofa.

"You're home? You came back without telling me, and you didn't even turn on the lights. I almost thought there was a burglar in the house."

As usual, Phillip stretched lazily and yawned.

"Busy all day. I'm so tired."

He looked so calm.

His calm demeanor made it clear that he didn't care at all about letting Elaina's dog attack my grandmother.

I couldn't help but wonder.

How many other times had Phillip allowed Elaina to do something similar?

The thought of it made my heart ache.

Phillip lay back on the sofa, casting a commanding look my way.

I neither moved nor spoke.

In the past...

Whenever Phillip showed the slightest hint of exhaustion...

I would rush to serve him like a maid.

I would massage him, offering a full range of services.

And I would even throw in some elaborate games in bed at night.

No matter that each time left me exhausted, I was happy to endure it.

Because I loved him.

But now…

My cold and distant attitude began to irritate Phillip.

"Why are you just standing there? I told you I'm tired, my head aches, and my legs and back hurt. Come over and give me a massage..."

As he spoke, his voice began to fade.

His expression grew tense.

"A few days away and you've learned to smoke? Charlee, do you enjoy degrading yourself like this?"

His remark made me realize that the cigarette in my hand had almost burned down to the filter.

I glanced down, noticing the tiny embers burning into my foot, leaving a dent in my skin.

Yet, I felt no pain.

I couldn't even remember when I had learned to smoke.

After all, just yesterday, I didn't smoke.

Expressionless, I pulled out the divorce papers from my bag and tossed them in Phillip's face.

Then, I lit another cigarette, the flame illuminated his startled expression.

I sneered.

"Sign it. Let's set each other free."