I put tulips under all the pillows, and then I set fire to the house. Afterwards, I told him because I knew it was the wrong thing to do, even though at the time it seemed right. He tried to comfort me. He told me it wasn't my fault, but it was. I did it. I couldn't think straight anymore. Everytime I breathed in the fresh scent of flowers or looked out the bedroom window facing the garden, I thought about them. I thought about my children. I thought about how I was a murderer.
He asked me why I did it.
"I did it because I thought it was the right thing to do." I replied for the 37th time since it happened.
"Come on, you know you can tell me anything." he countered. It was as if he could look straight through me. His piercing blue eyes could see into my soul. I looked at my feet, flustered. He stepped towards me, smiled warmly and embraced me in a hug. I found it more than a tad awkward but when he did it, I relaxed. I breathed in the musky but sweet smell of his old, brown, leather jacket and closed my eyes.
"I did it," I whispered, "because I love you, Si" He took a step back and bent his knees so he could look me eye to eye. With eyebrows furrowed, he searched my face with his eyes. I could tell he was confused but he hid that fact relatively quickly. Instead, he simply told me that he loved me too.
YOU ARE READING
Burning Love
Mystery / ThrillerNo one knew why she did it... Not even her. Maybe it was because she thought it was the right thing to do? But of course, that was merely an excuse. It wasn't the answer. Margaret didn't know herself, and asking for help would be unforgivable. She...
