I made my way out of the courtroom, almost sprinting, nearly stumbling on every turn to reach the bathroom. I tumble onto the floor in front of the toilet and threw up. It wasn’t just the stress, or the sickening feeling of the lies being hurled at me. It wasn’t even the suffocating weight of the jury’s eyes on me, or the fact that I was one step closer to a life sentence for a crime I hadn’t committed.

No. It was the look on Henry Wilde’s face. The way he’d stood there in that witness box, his smug expression barely containing the thrill of watching me burn.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, struggling to steady my breath. The fluorescent lights above hummed, but it was as if the sound had turned into a buzzing in my ears. I stayed on the cold floor for a moment, trying to collect myself, to find the strength to face whatever came next.

But I couldn’t escape the thought of Henry. Of his words. Of the way he had looked at me after he spoke. There was something in his eyes – something darker than guilt. Something that felt… triumphant. Was he toying with me?

I leaned against the wall, trying to calm my mind, but the image of him flashed before my eyes again. That smirk.

However, the image of him seemed to turn to reality.

“She was doing well, you know, since she left.”

My head snapped up. There he was – standing in the doorway, as if he’d never left. The same unsettling calm, the same smugness in his expression, as though nothing had changed.

I froze. How long had he been there? Had he been watching me all this time?

“What did you just say?” My voice came out ragged, like I had been holding my breath for too long.

He stepped into the bathroom, his footsteps almost too light for someone carrying so much weight in their words. It was as if he had anticipated this moment, knowing exactly what it would do to me.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“I said, she was doing well, Vincent. Better than she had been in a long time. After... well, after the fights. After you…” He trailed off, his gaze flickering for just a split second, as though he was pretending to weigh his words, but I could see the calculation behind them.

I felt a cold tremor run through me. “You... you’re lying.”

Henry tilted his head, that infuriating smirk curling at the edges of his lips. “Why would I lie? I’m sure you noticed. She had a way of finding comfort in the right places. She was always good at that.”

The words hit me like a punch. I staggered back, pressing my palm against the cold, tiled wall to keep myself from collapsing. There was a ringing in my ears, a feeling of vertigo, and yet Henry stood there, utterly unbothered.

“What do you want from me?” I managed to choke out, each word tasting like ash in my mouth.

He shrugged, as if the answer didn’t matter anymore. “Nothing, Vincent. Nothing at all. I just wanted you to know… it’s all going to work out in the end.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I demanded, my voice hoarse, shaking with barely contained rage.

Henry’s eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, there was something almost... pitying in his gaze. It was as if he was trying to make me understand the inevitability of it all.

“You’ve already lost. The court sees it. Your wife’s gone. She left you. And now, you’ll go too.”

The last part of his sentence hit me like a physical blow.

It wasn’t just the trial. It was everything that had been building up, the slow realisation that maybe this was my fault, that somehow, I had driven her to this. I had tried so hard to hold onto her, but in the end, maybe I had pushed her away more than I realised.

“You really think I killed her, don’t you?” I spat, my breath ragged.

For a brief moment, his smile faltered. Just long enough to make me wonder. But then it was back, more confident than ever.

“I think you might have, Vincent,” he said, his voice almost too calm, too sure of itself. “But don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll figure out the truth. Eventually.”

He turned and walked out of the bathroom without another word, leaving me standing there, my heart hammering in my chest. My thoughts were in turmoil – was he right? Was I responsible for everything that had happened to her? Did I kill her?

I had to get out of here. I had to think.

I rushed back to the courtroom, my mind a blur, trying to process everything. But the moment I stepped inside, something caught my eye. A figure near the back, standing just out of view, passing a small, discreet envelope to the defence attorney.

The lawyer looked up, his face unreadable. But then, just for a moment, a smirk curled at the corner of his lips.

The same smug, twisted smirk Henry had worn earlier.

And then I realised – whatever was in that envelope, it was for me. Something that would seal my fate, something that could destroy everything I had left.