Freedom. The word played in her head like sweet music on the radio. She stared at his coffin as the pallbearers lowered it into the waiting grave. It landed on the ground with a dull thud. She cringed, unable to take her eyes off the wooden casket. Expecting, at any moment, for her husband to shove back the lid and pull her into the grave with him.
Relax, Laryssa, he's dead.
She searched her heart for any feelings whatsoever for the man she'd been married to for seven years, but none surfaced. Aidan had put her through living hell. That's why when the coroner went to give her his personal belongings, the first words out of her mouth were, 'bury them with him.' The man's jaw dropped and he'd simply stared at her.
She yanked off her wedding ring and dropped it onto the casket. Whispers could be heard behind her, but she didn't care. From her pocket, she pulled the divorce documents, which were drawn up earlier that month, and dropped them into the grave. She never did find the courage to tell him she wanted a divorce, not while the bruises on her back were still healing.
The positive pregnancy test, she'd taken a few weeks ago, only enforced her need to stay. There was no way she'd have made it on her own. She'd hoped a miracle would come her way and he'd change when she told him the news. She learned the hard way that he had no intention of changing. If he could speak, he'd probably say it should have been her in ...