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“You did this!” I screamed, pressing the blade into his pale skin a little further. “You made this happen!”
“I didn’t do anything, Lauren.” he sighed, almost fearful now, “You know I could never hurt you. I…I love you.”
Devin slowly put his right hand over mine, gently releasing his exposed fresh from the steel edge of his knife and using his left hand to tuck a piece of my hair behind my left ear. That hand slowly made its way down my cheek and I suddenly felt tears in my eyes.
I knew it – I knew he loved me. That he was protecting our home, our lives…our love. But there was still something…something in my stomach traveling up to my throat. A feeling of danger and impending doom gripping tighter and tighter around my neck…
It wasn’t until I realized I was no longer breathing that I noticed Devin’s hands were actually around my throat. He wrestled me to the ground and put the knife to my chest, “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING, LAUREN?!?!” he screamed, releasing me.
As I gasped for air, clutching my throat, I screamed, “You did this…you fucking did this! STEVE!!!!!” I cried.
“Steve’s fucking dead, Lauren! And you fucking killed him. Not me – you fucking pulled the trigger!”
“You did it – you made me do it.” I cried as snot made its way down the roof of my mouth.
“Maybe, Lauren. But I know this much – I didn’t do any of this alone.” Devin said, as he affixed three cinderblocks to Steve’s body and rolled him into the Schuylkill River.
As Steve sank to the bottom of Pennsylvania’s most famous river, I could only think about how he was taking my silence and my life with him. Devin was right – he wasn’t alone.
As Devin made his way back towards me, he leaned down to plant a kiss on my forehead and whispered, “I love you, Lauren.”
…or so I thought.
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