I Broke Free from His Love Chains

When I was brutally raped and murdered by ruthless criminals, my husband, Andy Carter, was tenderly escorting his childhood sweetheart, Ruby White, to a hospital checkup.

In my final moments, I frantically dialed his number, pleading for help, only to be met with his icy indifference as he callously ended the call.

"Nora Green, unless you come here and personally apologize to Ruby, don't even think about me forgiving you," Andy had coldly declared.

Our relationship had been strained for a week, ever since I accidentally pushed Ruby during a heated argument.

Yet, that very night, Andy was urgently summoned by his captain to assist with a gruesome dismemberment case.

With a composed yet stern expression, he meticulously analyzed the scene.

"The victim was a female, aged between 24 and 27, and was approximately two months pregnant at the time of her death," he deduced.

Andy was the foremost professor of forensic medicine. No case had ever eluded his keen insight within three days.

Yet, astonishingly, it took him a full week to identify the dismembered remains as his own wife.

After killing me, the murderer scattered my body parts across various locations.

A vigilant passerby alerted the police to the macabre discovery, prompting the special case team to intervene. Unable to ascertain the identity of the deceased, they reached out to Andy.

Upon receiving the distressing call, Andy frowned.

"Alright, I'll be there shortly," he responded.

As he ended the call, his gaze lingered on Ruby with palpable distress.

Due to my impulsive shove, her calf had collided with a sharp table corner, leaving a vivid bruise.

At that moment, they sat in the hospital waiting room.

Despite the seemingly minor injury, Andy insisted on a thorough examination, demonstrating his unwavering concern for Ruby.

Known for his relentless dedication to his work, Andy rarely took time off, yet he had made an exception to accompany Ruby to the hospital.

Aware of the complexity of the case awaiting him, Andy appeared somewhat preoccupied.

Ruby sensibly noticed something amiss.

She gently clasped his hand.

"Andy, it's just a bit of pain; nothing serious.

"Please don't blame Nora. Perhaps she's just envious of me, given her lack of familial love. Don't be too harsh on her..."

Her words, seemingly gentle, were laced with subtle manipulation.

As a ghostly observer, I seethed with impotent rage, my fists clenching involuntarily.

Had I still been alive, I would have undoubtedly lunged at her to unleash my fury.

Earlier that day, returning home unexpectedly to retrieve something I had forgotten, I was stunned to find Ruby lounging in our bedroom, clad in my pajamas and nestled cozily in Andy's embrace.

Enraged, I charged at her, only to have Andy's strong hand restrain me.

"Ruby's clothes were wet. It was just a temporary measure for her to use yours. Be sensible!" Andy defended Ruby dismissively.

My anger boiled over, and I retorted bitterly.

"So, if her clothes are wet, she can wear my pajamas. Does that mean if she's feeling lonely, she can share my husband openly?"

Andy turned gloomy.

"You are so unreasonable!"

His guilt was palpable as he turned away, leaving me behind.

Known for my vengeful nature, I pushed Ruby forcefully to tear off her facade of fragility and innocence.

"Andy! Ah!" Ruby cried out.

She stumbled backward, so her calf collided painfully with a sharp corner.

Worry contorted Andy's countenance drastically. "Nora! You've gone too far!"

He shoved me aside, oblivious to the fruit knife that lay in wait behind me. It found its mark with a cruel precision, embedding itself deeply into my calf.

A cold sweat broke out across my brow because the pain was searing through me like a bolt of lightning. Yet, his attention wholly focused on Ruby, who he swiftly lifted into his arms. His coat was enveloping her protectively as he strode out.

"Ruby, I'm taking you to the hospital!"

The sharp fruit knife sliced through my calf.

With a heavy limp, I staggered alone towards the clinic downstairs, desperate for a bandage to staunch the flow of blood.

But fate dealt me a cruel hand. On my way home, some shadowy figures yanked me into an empty alley.

They pinned me down to rape me.

I clutched my stomach.

With my last ounce of strength, I frantically dialed Andy for help.

Call after call, my cries fell on deaf ears.

Each time, the line went dead, a cold disconnection echoing my fading hope.

Just as my final breath was about to escape, a chilling message illuminated my phone's screen.

"Nora, unless you personally apologize to Ruby, don't expect my forgiveness."

The gang, with cold indifference, plucked the SIM card from my phone and cast it into the murky depths of the sewer.

As a ghostly spectator, I watched from the sidelines.

They dismembered my body to pack the pieces like macabre cargo and hurled them into the same sewer.

Andy would never know the depth of my despair when my calls for help were met with a brutal hangup. Each silence was a dagger to my soul.

They would never hear my apology.

As Andy burst back into the special case team, the police were already painstakingly reassembling my fragmented body.

It began with a trail of blood, a gruesome clue that led to the discovery of my dismembered remains.

The sight was so horrific that the seasoned criminal investigators themselves were overcome by the stench and retched uncontrollably.

The assistant, Max Blake, handed over the preliminary findings to Andy.

Clad in gloves and a mask, Andy steeled himself to examine the state of the body. His analytical mind was battling the waves of nausea.

"The deceased is a female, aged between 24 and 27.

"She suffered multiple injuries, resulting in significant blood loss.

"Additionally, her lower abdomen was severely damaged, with evidence of internal bleeding..."

Andy paused and delivered the crushing revelation.

"It's likely that she was approximately two months pregnant."

The room gasped in unison, a collective intake of breath at the heinousness of the crime.

"Monstrous!" someone muttered under their breath.

"Utterly savage. Even a pregnant woman wasn't spared!"

"And this looks like a meticulously planned murder!"

All eyes were heavy with expectation. Andy's eyes lingered on my body.

His brow was furrowed in deep thought.

"It appears that she's missing two fingers on the right hand."

It was then that the team noticed the absence of my ring and index fingers.

My heart lurched.

On my right ring finger, a small black mole adorned my skin like a sinister mark of identity.

I thought, "Could it be that the murderers feared my identity would be revealed? Had they callously severed my fingers?"

I hovered nearby and observed Andy's every reaction.

Would he recognize me?

"Has anyone reported a missing person in the past few days?"

Andy inquired casually, removing his gloves.

His astuteness was undeniable.

If a nearby report had surfaced, it would likely stem from a family member of the victim, significantly narrowing the scope of identity verification.

Max shook his head, handing Andy a towel.

"None of the recent reports have been for missing persons."

Andy nodded. "Then we'll have to wait a bit longer. Let's start by sending the victim's tissue for DNA testing."

Just then, his phone rang out.

A message from Ruby flashed on the screen.

It was a selfie of her donning a slender slip dress. She was stirring soup in her kitchen with a playful smile.

"Andy, when you're done with work, come over for dinner. I've made your favorite mushroom soup especially for you."

Upon seeing Ruby's message, Andy eased his furrowed brow. His eyes were softening with a tender light.

I watched him, lost in thought.

I recalled the early days of our marriage when Andy was equally attentive to me.

His gaze upon me was always brimming with affection and care.

He would cook delicate soups for me and prepare lightflavored dishes that I adored.

I loved concerts, so he would endure the early morning queues to secure tickets for me, unbothered by the dark circles under his eyes.

After work, he would envelop me in a gentle embrace, holding me close.

He whispered, "Nora, let's have a child of our own someday. I hope she can be as adorable as you."

I yearned for this happiness to continue unfurling like a cherished dream.

Yet, such bliss was ephemeral.

It was soon shattered by the arrival of Ruby, whose parents' death led her back from abroad, disheveled and alone.

Andy, once wholly devoted to me, began to stay away for days on end.

Initially, he would offer explanations. "Nora, I can't watch a movie with you today. Ruby is running a high fever, and the doctor says she's lost the will to live. I must care for her."

Ruby and Andy had grown up together.

He spoke of how her parents had supported him in his youth. Now, with Ruby in distress, he felt compelled to assist, unable to abandon her in her time of need.

I empathized, striving to understand his predicament.

Yet, his concern for Ruby escalated. His thoughts were increasingly consumed by her wellbeing until he transferred his entire focus away from our shared life.

Andy's gaze towards Ruby grew increasingly tender.

Each time he planned a movie outing with me, Ruby was inevitably included.

At meals, he would habitually serve her.

These gestures sparked numerous quarrels between Andy and me.

He would look at me with a mix of frustration and weariness. He frowned as he explained, "Nora, I've told you countless times that Ruby is like a sister to me, and she's quite dependent. Can you please stop overthinking things?"

Yet, he remained oblivious to Ruby's manipulative tactics.

Ruby crafted a secretive social media post, visible only to me, brazenly declaring: [What is mine will always come back to me.]

I retaliated by blocking her, only to be met with her taunting whisper, "Nora, Andy gifts me a present every year for my birthday. What about you?"

My fists clenched as I fought the urge to strike back.

On my birthday, she feigned illness, luring Andy away and seizing my birthday gift a necklace that should have adorned my neck, now glinting around hers.

"Nora, I merely commented on its beauty, and Andy gifted it to me. Do you think it suits me?"

Unable to endure her provocation any longer, I struck out.

The following day, Andy stormed in, demanding an explanation with anger.

"Nora, why are you becoming increasingly unreasonable?

"Ruby simply admired that necklace. You have so many others. What harm could it do to let her have it?"

I gazed at him coldly, momentarily dazed.

It seemed like only yesterday when he praised my gentleness and charm.

Now, with the scales of his heart tipping away from me, each action of mine could displease him.

As Ruby's invitation hung in the air, Andy smiled and replied: [Okay.]

His fingers paused, scrolling through the chat history with me.

Days had passed without a word exchanged between us.

The last message was still lingering from when I had asked: [When will you be back tonight?]

No response came.

That evening, he was once again summoned to attend to Ruby's personal affairs.

Andy frowned with a hint of discontent etching on his features.

In the past, it was I who initiated the conversations, his replies as capricious as his moods.

Each quarrel ended with me swallowing my pride, extending an olive branch.

Yet, this was the first time we had endured such a lengthy cold war, and I had yet to yield.

He often admonished me not to intrude on his space.

Now that I truly refrained, he should have been content.

But his brows remained knitted as if grappling with an unforeseen dilemma.

His fingers danced across the screen, typing and deleting words in hesitation before finally sending a message.

[Have you figured out how to apologize to Ruby?]

Five minutes passed, but his phone was silent.

Half an hour later, there was still no response.

Andy slammed his phone down with irritation. "Let's see how long you can hold out."

At that moment, a colleague burst in with a parcel in hand.

"Andy, this seems to be for you."

Glancing at the signature, he added, "Looks like it's from your wife, right?"

Andy took it. His expression was sullen as he casually opened the box.

Inside lay the anniversary gift I had meticulously prepared a week in advance.

This year marked our third wedding anniversary. A cherished tradition we had faithfully maintained was the exchange of heartfelt gifts.

However, the serene waters of our celebration were rippled by an unexpected turn: Ruby's return disrupted Andy's memory. He seemed busy day and night.

But I still prepared a gift for Andy.

The gift was a Ushaped latex pillow, which was designed to alleviate the strain on Andy's cervical spine from his frequent naps at his desk.

I chose it after two weeks of searching.

"Andy, you're one lucky guy!" the colleague exclaimed.

"Your wife is so thoughtful, unlike my wife who barely cares me!"

But Andy remained cold, a trace of scorn curling his lips.

"She's just playing these petty tricks."

With that, he discarded the pillow, not even sparing it a second glance.

"You don't want it?" the colleague asked, surprised. "If you abandon it, I'll take it."

Andy didn't even lift his head.

"I'm unwilling to use anything that woman sends.

"Take it if you like it."

His colleague claimed the gift I had painstakingly chosen over two weeks.

Andy was unmoved, his attention seemingly captivated by the conversation between Ruby.

The faint smile playing on his lips hurt me, a silent testament to his detachment.

These days, Andy had been consumed by the demands of the criminal police team, his colleagues, and the relentless pursuit of clues.

After work, he frequented Ruby's abode, where she had mastered an array of delicacies to ensnare his palate, resulting in his absence from our home for a full seven days.

The DNA comparison results remained elusive, casting a shadow of concern over the team as they contemplated my body.

"It's truly perplexing. The deceased has been missing for seven days. Why hasn't her family reported it to the police?"

The criminal investigators were taken aback.

Their speculations ranged from harsh criticisms of the deceased's family as neglectful to the possibility that I might have been without family altogether.

Hovered at the sidelines, I lowered my head at these words.

Apart from Andy, I indeed had no family.

Raised in an orphanage, I had envisioned a solitary, childless life until Andy entered my world.

His vows at our marriage had been poignant, promising to cherish me for life.

Yet, here I was, deceased for seven days.

He remained oblivious, never once returning home to check on me or noticing my absence.

Roy Smith, the policeman, unearthed new leads. His expression was grave as he addressed Andy.

"Andy, have you been in contact with your wife recently?"

The room fell silent, all eyes on Andy.

Andy turned gloomy. "What do you mean?"