More than Life Itself

Somehow I wasn't prepared for the blood; it's so red, so warm, the way it squirts out; there's so much blood!

Yvette and I were childhood sweethearts, we had married soon after school. Three kids raised and gone.

I sat next to Yvette and watched Steve Hammond bleed out.

"Look what you made me do Yvette. This is all your fault. Look what you made me do!"

Yvette looked at me with pleading eyes, struggling against the duct tape securing her to the dining room chair. I could tell that she was screaming into the gag.

"You know that I always mean what I say. I told you that I loved you more than life itself and I really meant it. When I found out that you were leaving me, my life ended - literally. So if I'm already dead; what's to stop me getting revenge on lover boy here?"

It was less than a week since I'd found out about Yvette and Steve; less than a week since my world collapsed. One week ago I was so happy; coming up to my 50th birthday: good job, lovely house, gorgeous wife; and then I noticed Yvette secretly texting.

She'd always been very open with her phone (her passcode was our wedding anniversary); suddenly she was guarding it, and when I did grab it (while she was in the shower), her passcode was changed. I asked her why she had changed her passcode and she had blown up at me about invading her privacy.

Even taped to a chair with her mascara running down her face; Yvette still looked lovely. She was still dressed as I had found her when I burst into the bedroom. Red bra panties and suspenders, black stocking, high heels.

I'd stood outside the door listening to them discussing which heels made her legs look longest, which bra made her breasts look fullest. I'd stood there until I couldn't take any more.

"You didn't expect me home so early - I know, I've read the texts." She snapped around and stared at me, realization showed in her eyes.

"Yes that's right, I got into your phone and read all the texts between you and your lover!" The horrified look was replaced with sadness and she shook her head.

"It's too late to deny it, look". I grabbed her phone and cruelly wrenching her thumb up, presented it to the button; the phone unlocked.

"Look at your last message you cheating whore!"

'Steve, everything is ready, come around at 4:00 PM and help me pick sexy Lingerie, I feel so naughty. Don't worry, we will have plenty of time, Mike doesn't get home until 8:00. It's been so cold, I can't believe that tomorrow I'll be leaving and we'll be flying off to the sunshine. Then it will be Sex on The Beach time :)!' Yvette hangs her head and sobbed.

The shock on their faces when I'd burst into the bedroom. Steve was sitting on MY bed playing with the catch at the back of Yvette's suspender belt.

"What the F..." I smacked him around the head with the barrel of my Glock 17; he fell to the floor dazed. Yvette screamed.

"OH MY GOD MIKE! HONEY, IT'S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP YVETTE AND KNEEL ON THE FLOOR!" I grabbed a discarded pair of panties off the bed and shoved them in her mouth. Then I secured it in place with duct tape. She was screaming through the gag and tried to grab me so I put the gun to her head. When she calmed down, I taped her hands together, led her downstairs and secured her to a chair.

I dragged Steve downstairs by his feet. His head banging on each step. It took some effort to tape the unconscious bastard to a chair. There was no going back.

Last Tuesday night; as soon as she started snoring, I got her phone and used her thumb to unlock it. That's when I found the texts from Steve;

'How does the new bra fit?'

'What kind of question is that for a gentleman to ask :o?'

'You know I'm NOT a gentleman :p!'

'OK - since you've already seen it all' the whore had sent a selfie in front of the mirror wearing just a red bra and panties. I'd seen enough, I'll teach the cheating bitch!

Last night, I'd checked the text again. It was much worse than I'd imagined; she was going to leave me the day after my birthday! The whore was looking forward to fucking him on a beach somewhere.

Once Steve was secured to the chair, I got out a craft knife. I carefully fitted a new blade. Yvette's desperately pulled against the tape.

"Don't worry honey, this is not for you. I want you to live with this memory. You should have realized that there would be consequences to your cheating. You get to watch your lover slowly die!" and with that, I sliced his right carotid artery. I jumped back - I hadn't expected it to come out like a firehose!

I was surprised how quickly he bled to death.

"Sorry Yvette, you'll never get to have sex on the beach with your lover, and we'll never grow old together." I put the Glock in my mouth and pulled the trigger.

Afterwards.

"SURPRISE! Happy Fiftieth Birthday!"

At 8:15 PM the door flew open and twenty of our family and friends burst in with balloons, streamers popping. As the smoke and streamers settled, the screaming started. Steve's husband and fellow party organizer ran to his side, cradled his head and sobbed.