Originally, this projector was meant to play a video I had spent months editing—a montage of our life together. But now, as I thought about what I was about to display, a dark satisfaction coiled in my gut.
The video transfer completed.
For the sake of the five years I once loved her, I gave her one final exit ramp.
"Tessa." My hand hovered over the controls. "I'll give you one last chance. Agree to divorce me right now, and I won't open this 'surprise.'"
She shook her head violently, playing the martyr to the bitter end.
I sighed. I gave you a chance. Don't blame me for what happens next.
