Wishing You To Hell
Language: en
Ever since his company went bankrupt, Gavin Rhodes had been a ghost of the man I married. He fell into a black hole of clinical depression, and after I pulled him back from his second suicide attempt—finding him in a bathtub of crimson water—he broke down in my arms. He sobbed until he couldn't breathe, clutching my shirt like a drowning man. "Sierra, I’m dragging you down with me," he wailed. "The debt, the shame... please, just let me go. Let me die." My heart felt like it was being crushed in a vice. I couldn't lose him. To give him a reason to keep breathing, I brought out an antique…