Faking My Death To Ruin Her
Language: en
Whenever Victoria and I were intimate, the ghost of a man with wildly unkempt hair would suddenly materialize, his broken form lurking in the shadows of our bedroom, terrifying me to my core. Victoria would patiently comfort me, holding me until the trembling stopped. Still, my nerves were completely frayed. For a long time, I genuinely believed I had developed some severe psychological intimacy disorder. Driven to the brink, I finally went to the hospital for a full neurological evaluation. Instead of a diagnosis for myself, I received entirely different news: Victoria was…