“When you asked Snow to get an abortion.”
“That was weeks ago. I thought we were over that.”
“I’m not.” He said as he started signing the divorce papers. With a scream, I stormed out of the room.
I went back into our bedroom and headed straight for the closet. I grabbed the gun from our safe. My mind was racing. My heart was pounding. He thought he could just end us over a glass of scotch on a random Tuesday. For her? Hell fucking no!
This was a marriage! Our marriage! It was till DEATH do us part. And if death had to keep us together, it would too. I took the safety off and walked toward Snow’s bedroom. “What are you doing?” Cane asked from behind me.
“Nothing,” I said.
“Give me that fucking gun!” he yelled as he charged at me. He tried to snatch it from me, but my finger was already on the trigger.
POW!
My body jerked back from the power of the shot. Cane held his chest as he stumbled on his feet. “Oh god, I cried as he fell to the floor. I frantically looked for the bullet’s entrance. “Cane, tell me what to do because I can't lose you,” I sobbed as my trembling hands fell down his body. “I don’t know what to do.” I cried. I covered his chest with my shaking hands. I pressed my weight against him. “Cane.” I whimpered. There was so much blood, so much fucking blood. It had soaked through his clothes. It was spilling from his lips. It was running down my hands. It was in the creases of my palms. It was pouring out of his body like it was no longer needed.
“Hold on. Just hold on.” I said. My arms trembled from exhaustion as the smell of blood burned my nose. "I love you. I love you." I said over and over again. Suddenly, I didn’t think I had told him that enough. I pressed deeper into him. I was holding on to him while he was holding on to life. It felt as if, either one of us let go, I would lose him. And I? couldn’t lose him.
I pressed harder against Cane. My arms were threatening to collapse. My own body was trying to give up on me. I couldn’t let it, not when this was my fault.
“What happened?” Snow cried.
I looked over my shoulder and saw her scary ass standing there. “Call 911, dummy.”
As she wobbled her fat ass back to her room, I returned my attention to Cane. He was getting weaker and weaker.
It felt like I waited hours for help, but then I finally felt relief. “Mrs., we got it from here." The paramedic said beside me. "Let go.”
“I can’t,” I said. It felt like I just gained control of the bleeding.
“Look at me.” He said. I turned to stare into his blue eyes. “I got it from here." He said as he tried to move my hand.
“He’s dying." I cried.
"Not if I can help it. Let me get him to the hospital.” He coaxed as he attempted to pry my hands away.
“Snow,” Cane groaned. I knew at that moment that that bitch had stole my husband.
-
“I tried to leave him, and he wouldn’t let me.” I sobbed as I held my body close. “So, I shot him.” I stuttered.
Since I shot Cane, each word that came out of my mouth was calculated and carefully thought out. I knew the moment I shot him, this could go one of two ways. It could be attempted murder or self-defense. The way I was performing for the police’s body cam, I was going for self-defense.
I looked at the police officer. My lips trembled as tears fell down my face. “I just wanted to go.” I lied. “How could he force me to stay in our home when he moved his pregnant girlfriend in?”
“He did what?” The female cop asked.
Snow came walking into the hospital, her eyes big as fucking saucers. She didn’t even realize how well her entrance played into my story. “Get out!” I screamed.” She stopped right in her tracks and looked at me. “You have no right to be here!” I screamed.
Her scary ass jumped and immediately backpedaled out of the hospital. I was glad, because I didn’t want the police to question her. I didn’t want her to tell them what she thought she heard or saw tonight.
-
“Surgery was successful.” Those words coming from blue scrubs had me jumping to my feet. “I need to see him,” I said.
“Sure, this way.” She said as she directed me to his room. I was right on her heels, trying to get to Cane. I needed to speak to him before I called his family. He needed to know that this was an accident because it wasn’t just our marriage on the line; it was my freedom.
