Drake was beautiful, especially now when he was uncooperative and brooding. Ignoring the passion and heartache he so easily stirred in her, Sandra concentrated on the dreaded task.
“You don’t have to do this,” his voice caressed.
Blinking back tears, she didn’t argue. They had already had this discussion.
“Find another way,” he growled.
Pausing to catch her breath, Sandra glanced up to find him looming over her. “There is no other way,” she insisted, her heart breaking. Before he could plead further, she killed him in the second to last paragraph of her novel.
The grief was excruciating.
© Tarrant Smith 2019