My Unwilling Muse
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Summary
The System told me I had to save my depressed husband. I told it to go to hell.
When he held a blade to his arm, I didn't rush over to tear it away. I didn't scream or beg. Instead, I marched over to the balcony, threw the window open, and wailed at the top of my lungs to the quiet, upscale suburban street below.
"My limited-edition Louboutins! The heel just snapped! God above, why even bother living anymore?"
Gavin froze. He looked at the blade, then at me, then at the neighbors’ windows across the street.
