technically he doesn't die from stairs
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Summary
Willow was tired of it. Tired of everything. She’d thought she’d been in love. Apparently it had all been a lie. A decade long lie.
She scowled as she looked at the portrait, the family portrait with her husband. The wine tasted especially acidic today.
What had happened to her? Why was she weeping, and moping around? She was disgracing her father by hiding like this. So she made a mistake, who didn’t?
She was wasting time, and her hard earned physique. Letting her instincts dull, and for what? A man who never truly cared for her?
She looked at the bottle in her hand as she sat down in the office chair. She had two paths forward as she saw it. She could continue her self imposed exile, and pity party until things continued to deteriorate, or…
She stood up, and looked at her weapon still mounted above the room’s fireplace. Or she could actually do something, and be a mother for her family.
Series
- Part 13 of Distorted Mirror