I Hurt Myself For Love
Benedict Cole’s undercover mission had failed. Only his twin brother, David Cole, returned.
I was devastated, nearly driven to madness over losing my husband.
Holding Benedict’s police badge, I tried to slit my wrists nine times, but I was always rescued just in time.
As my consciousness faded on my tenth attempt, I overheard a conversation between my mother-in-law, Helen, and David.
“El has tried to commit suicide for you ten times now. How long are you going to keep this act up? This woman is head over heels for you. Just stop lying to her already!”
David’s expression hardened as he flatly refused.
“David took a bullet for me. It is only right that I take care of his wife.”
“El’s from the countryside. She’s tough. Once Melissa becomes pregnant and has a child to live for, only then can I reveal that I am actually Benedict.”
The bathtub was dyed red with my blood, but the pain in my heart was far greater than the sting of my wound.
It turned out that it had all been a lie, a deception meant only for me.
My grief-stricken suicide attempts for love were nothing short of a clown’s tragicomedy.