Marriage was sacred; vows sealed a love, rings marked the devotion. Through good and bad, sickness and health, life and death.

William couldn’t understand why you were so mad at him- it was only a bit of blood.

He couldn’t control himself, he didn’t know how. William always seemed to feel this overwhelming rage that lead him to commit his crimes- yet you had loved him all the same.

It was alarming, he was an awful person. Yet, William couldn’t find it in his heart to be upset- he loved you, and he was grateful you loved him back…even despite his actions.

The only thing you didn’t seem to love was the gallons of blood spilled on the carpet, the bloodied clothes you had to wash and the stained skin you had to bathe off him.

William closed the door behind him, smile fading as he heard your groan. Another day, another child, another gallon of blood spilt.

…another load of cleaning for you.

“What’s that look for? Is it not enough?” He asked, tilting his head.