Marriage With A Evil Heart

My name is Daisy Smith, and I’m thirty years old.

Among my peers, I’ve always been the object of jealousy and admiration. I live in a standalone house in the upscale area of Newport, and my young, handsome, and considerate husband loves me very much. He is known as a perfect husband.

His name is Robert Brown, he turned out to be a semi-known senior stylist at a small boutique salon named “Tony’s” . While I ran a medical equipment company with a prominent reputation for quality and earned a good annual income.

After marriage, I gave birth to three lovely and beautiful babies. Balancing both career and children, my husband felt I was working too hard. He voluntarily resigned to help manage the company, which flourished under his care. I became a full-time housewife, enjoying life while taking care of the family and children. In the eyes of my peers, we were the perfect family with a white picket fence.

However, recently, I’ve noticed that my body is deteriorating day by day-hair loss, excessive sleepiness, declining memory, physical emaciation, and mental lethargy. Every day feels like being in a dream.

My husband informed me of the doctor’s diagnosis, saying I had a “Typical mental anxiety disorder”. He sought renowned doctors who prescribed various medications, and the nanny was instructed to prepare and ensure I took them regularly.

To my utter astonishment, this was almost the beginning of the end of my life…

One day, I was awakened by a headache while in a deep sleep. As I struggled against drowsiness, the family cat accidentally knocked over the medication brought by the nanny and greedily licked up the spilled liquid.

When I fully woke up, he was already on the windowsill cozily licking his paws and washing his face.

Upon the nanny’s arrival to pick up the bowl, I didn’t press the issue, not wanting her to have to re-boil it.

To be honest, I had had enough of the medicine; if it wasn’t for the fact that my husband put in sleepless nights to get me the best treatments from the best doctors as well as making sure I drink it on time, I’d be pouring it down the drain for sure.

Ever since I got sick, the responsibility of taking care of the family fell on our maid, who was called Sherry. She was constantly busy, with no time to rest, and sometimes I felt genuinely sorry for her.

After chatting with me for a while, she took the bowl and went out to do other chores.

I twisted my head back to look at the pillowcase, sure enough it was matted with black hair, a complete layer of shedding, looking quite alarming. I sighed, gathered the hair into a roll, and stuffed it into a pocket, intending to throw it in the bathroom trash later.

Suddenly, I was startled by a muffled ‘bang’ sound from behind!Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

I pressed my chest for a while before cautiously crawling to the other side of the bed. I found that the cat, which had been lazily grooming itself on the windowsill, had fallen to the ground. It lay there motionless, silent.

An ominous premonition struck me inexplicably. “Button!” I called out, and it remained still. “Button!” I called again, but there was no response.

A chill ran up my spine and the hairs upon the back of my neck stood tall.

“How could he just fall? Cats have excellent balance; how could he possibly fall from the windowsill, and in this state?” I wondered.

“Could it… be dead?!” My heart sank and shriveled, and I couldn’t help but lean in to observe. I noticed its heavy breathing, not like death but a sleep, a very deep sleep. However, this sleep…

Suddenly, a terrible thought flashed through my mind!

I jumped off the bed, reaching to pick it up, but it was limp, powerless, seemingly oblivious in its deep sleep. I couldn’t help but wonder, “Do I sleep like this every day?”

Could it be…

As the thought raced through my mind, I winced, too frozen in panic to take the thought any further

Before I could ponder, a familiar footsteps approaching the bedroom door, it must be Robert.

Instinctively, I picked up Button, quickly returned to bed, and pulled the covers over us and slowed my breathing to create the facade of slumber.

At the same time, the door handle clicked, and my heart raced, feeling his gaze, a terrifying sense of fear engulfed me, and my hands trembled uncontrollably under the quilt.

However, the footsteps did not come closer, they retreated, and as the door was about to close, I heard Robert ask coldly, “Did she take her medicine?…”

The latter words were muffled by the door, leaving me to wonder what else was said.

In the next second, I opened my eyes suddenly, an unprecedented fear engulfing me, making my soul full of despair. At this moment, I didn’t even know where I was, whether I was in a dream, experiencing a nightmare.

Recalling the scene in front of me made me suspicious of the bowl of medicine.

I had raised Button for so many years, and I’ve never seen him in such a state, the only difference being that he consumed my medicine today.

The more I thought about it, the more frightened I became. could it really be true?

Could someone really be trying to harm me?