The world was spinning.
Not from the wounds—I was used to pain.
Not from the blood loss—I had survived worse.
But from the memories.
Samuel's memories.
Painful, suffocating, and cruel—like chains I never asked for.
I took another long swig from the Jack Daniels bottle, the burn in my throat a welcome distraction.
"Damn it… why now?" I muttered, stumbling forward.
The villa's lights were dim, shadows stretching long across the walls as I dragged my half-dead body inside.
Blood trailed behind me, a silent witness to the battle I had just endured.
I barely made it to the couch, collapsing onto it with a heavy sigh.
"At least Abigail isn't here," I murmured bitterly, tilting the bottle up again. "Probably with Joshua… where she belongs."
Then, the worst part—
The memories came flooding back.
"Samuel, buy some condoms on your way home."
"I'll be bringing someone over tonight."
"Make sure the sheets are clean."
I laughed—a bitter, hollow sound.
Then I slammed the bottle down on the coffee table, the glass shattering from the force.
"Damn it, Abigail!" I growled, my chest aching in a way no wound ever could.
My fists clenched, the veins in my arms pulsing with rage and grief.
"Why does it still hurt?! After everything… why?!"
I buried my face in my hands, my breaths ragged.
"Just let me die already."
Then—
The back door creaked open.
My entire body went still.
Footsteps.
Soft, hesitant.
I lifted my head slowly, my bloodshot green eyes locking onto the figure in the doorway.
Abigail.
She stood there—staring at me.
Her eyes widened in horror as they trailed over my bloodied form, the empty bottle beside me, the shattered glass at my feet.
"Samuel—"
I laughed again, this time softer—broken.
"Heh. What a surprise." I muttered. "Thought you'd be with Joshua."
She flinched. "I wasn't—"
"Save it." I exhaled sharply, running a shaking hand through my hair. "You don't owe me an explanation. Not anymore."
She took a step forward. "You're hurt."
I let out a slow, humorless chuckle. "You've never cared about that before."
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
Good. I was too damn tired for her lies.
I leaned my head back against the couch, my vision swimming.
"Go to bed, Abigail," I muttered, my voice hoarse. "This isn't your problem."
The room was heavy with silence—the kind that suffocates, the kind that drowns a man from the inside out.
I laughed bitterly, the whiskey bottle in my grip shaking as I took another long, burning gulp.
"Three fucking years," I muttered, voice raw. "Three years of humiliation. Three years of watching you bring other men into our bed—our bed, Abigail!"
My voice rose, hoarse with rage, pain, and something deeper.
I slammed the bottle onto the table, the force shattering the glass beneath it.
Abigail stood frozen, her face pale, her lips slightly parted—but she didn't speak.
She never did when it mattered.
I staggered to my feet, gripping my Desert Eagle from the holster, the weight familiar. Comforting.
Then—
I turned to her and shoved it into her hands.
"Go on." My voice was eerily calm as I grabbed her wrist, forcing the gun against my forehead. "Do it."
Her breath hitched. "S-Samuel—"
"Kill me." I whispered, my emerald eyes dark with something hollow. "You want me dead, don't you? After everything—you already killed me once. Might as well finish the job."
Her hands shook violently, her fingers trembling against the trigger.
"Stop it," she choked out, tears welling in her eyes.
I laughed again—a sharp, bitter sound. "Stop? Why? This is what you wanted, isn't it? You made me watch you fuck other men. You made me buy the fucking condoms so you could moan their names in our bed!"
She flinched, as if my words had physically struck her.
I took another step closer, pressing the barrel of the gun harder against my forehead.
"You took my ring—my grandmother's ring—and gave it to that bastard." My voice cracked. "You let him wear what was mine."
Tears slipped from her eyes. "Samuel… I—"
"DO IT!" I roared, my patience snapping, my soul fracturing.
She gasped, her knees buckling, but she didn't pull the trigger.
She couldn't.
Her fingers trembled so violently that the gun slipped from her grip, clattering onto the floor.
She fell to her knees.
Her head hung low, shoulders shaking.
And then—
She sobbed.
For the first time in three years, Abigail Bardot broke.
"I'm sorry."
I fell to my knees in front of her, my body weak, broken, and drained of everything except the agony inside me.
The gun lay forgotten on the floor between us, but its weight still pressed against my soul.
Our eyes met.
For the first time in three years, she truly looked at me.
And for the first time—she saw the ruins of the man she had destroyed.
Tears of blood streaked down my face as I choked on my own breath.
I wanted to speak—but the words felt like razor blades against my throat.
Then, finally—I spoke.
"When you said… bringing those men into our bed, those moans… were all a setup… I wanted to believe that."
My voice was hoarse, a whisper of a man who had already died too many times.
"But I know I can't."
She shook her head violently, her own tears streaming down her face as she reached toward me.
"Samuel, I never—"
I cut her off.
"I took high doses of sleeping pills every night, just praying I wouldn't wake up the next day."
Her eyes widened, pure horror flashing across her face.
"Samuel… no…"
I let out a shaky laugh, one that sounded more like a sob.
"But it was worthless."
I wiped my bloodied face with my trembling hands, my fingers digging into my skin.
Then I looked at her—truly looked at her.
The woman I had once loved.
The woman who had torn me apart.
"Look at me, Abigail."
She hesitated—terrified—but she did.
And when she saw the emptiness in my eyes, she gasped.
"You got what you wanted."
My breath hitched, my chest burning as I spoke my next words.
"Your family's revenge was successful. You made me suffer. You won."
She sobbed, shaking her head. "No, Samuel, I—"
"Just tell me one thing."
My voice cracked.
My hands clenched into fists.
"Was it worth it?"
She froze.
I swallowed the pain lodged in my throat.
"Was it worth it… to bring those men into our bed?"
I let out a broken, shaking breath.
"To moan their names while I was in the next room—just to give me suicidal thoughts?"
She covered her mouth with her hands, her entire body trembling.
She covered her mouth with her hands, her entire body trembling.
But she didn't answer.
Because she knew—
There was no answer that could ever undo what she had done.
The room felt heavy.
The weight of three years of torment, betrayal, and silent suffering pressed down on me, making it harder to breathe.
I watched her—Abigail, the woman who once meant everything to me.
Now, she was just a ghost of the love I used to believe in.
Her lips trembled, her hands still clasped over her mouth as if trying to stop the sobs from escaping.
But I didn't care.
I was too tired to care.
A sharp, searing pain tore through my chest.
The world around me tilted as my body finally gave in.
My legs buckled.
The room blurred.
And then—
I collapsed.
"SAMUEL!"
Abigail's scream felt distant, as if I were sinking into a place where her voice could no longer reach me.
I could feel my body hitting the cold floor, but the pain barely registered anymore.
I just… wanted to sleep.
Maybe this time, I wouldn't wake up.
"No, no, no—Samuel!"
She was beside me in an instant, her hands shaking as she tried to lift me.
"Stay with me!"
I let out a weak chuckle, coughing up blood in the process.
"Why?" I rasped, my voice barely above a whisper. "So you can watch me suffer a little longer?"
Her eyes widened, fresh tears spilling down her face.
"I never—Samuel, I swear, I never wanted this!"
I forced out a bitter laugh.
"Then why did you do it, Abigail?"
She couldn't answer.
She never could when it mattered.
Her arms wrapped around me, desperately trying to stop the blood from pooling beneath me.
"I'll call an ambulance! Just—just stay awake!" she sobbed, frantically reaching for her phone.
I caught her wrist midair, gripping it weakly.
"Don't."
Her breath hitched. "Samuel, please—"
I shook my head slowly, my vision darkening at the edges.
"I'm tired, Abigail."
A single tear of blood slid down my cheek as I closed my eyes.
"Just… let me go."
Then, everything went black.