Until Death Do Us Part

Dear Ryland,

Let's just talk about it, I know you've been avoiding the subject. I also knew that if I said this to you face to face then you'd drink yourself into unconsciousness, you'd believe that I had never been here, talking, to you. You, my groom, stood there with the fabulous suit that you told me you hated when I said that I liked it; I was so happy when I found out you'd bought it behind my back to give me a pleasant surprise. I knew you were special, a special young man that I could spend the rest of my life with. And that's exactly the point; I did spend the rest of my life with you. Yet you're still young. You're single. You're - it makes me sick to even say it - you're happy! How dare you be happy when your beautiful bride, and yes I was beautiful, is laying under the floorboards. My confidence died when you deformed my face with that broken bottle. My body died when you sliced through my throat. My soul died with the unbearable amount of disappointment and heartbreak that you caused in those short moments. Not to worry though, I got my confidence back. You see, the better a person you are, the better you look in the spirit world. I'll have you know, I'm quite a stunner. Got myself a treat, a (until recently) lonely man who saved the woman of his dreams. His name is Nicolas. He got her out of a fire that took place here when this house was made out of stone. She never knew him and he never made it out. He tells me he loves me, I believe him. I also believe that your guilt, if there's any justice, will forever get in the way of your happiness. You loved me, I know it; I hear you screaming it in the dead of night. It's like music to my ears, and it makes Nicolas happy to see my smile. Is it not nice to think that you're still bringing happiness into your wife's life?

Wishing you a long, miserable life,

Your Beautiful Wife,

Victoria xox