Canary Caged, Then Gone

Seven years into their marriage, Jason Sterling was over his little songbird.

She bounced out, leaving behind a single, dismissive line:

"Jason, I've cashed in. And honey, you're not worth a dime to me anymore."

I watched it all unfold, a detached observer waiting for Jason’s famous temper to flare. It was a familiar scene, practically a weekly occurrence for the past three years.

But this time, he just gave a cold laugh. "A pet bird? Please, like I ever gave a damn."

Then, not long after, came the news: she'd been in a fatal car crash.

The man who was always so cool and collected just cracked. He went completely nuts.

Chapter 1

After Sarah’s death, Jason locked himself away in his study, refusing food or drink. It was like he'd lost his mind.

I knocked on the door, but the only response I got was a harsh: "Get lost."

I knew he was hurting, and I almost apologized.

But then I caught myself. How ridiculous was that?

We were still married! He’d been cheating and completely out of line. Why was I about to apologize for his mess?

I stared at the cold dinner on the table, the five-hour soup now with a congealed surface, a hint of a fishy smell. I dumped it all in the trash.

It was like our twenty-year friendship, gone sour. I needed to get rid of the rot before it could spread further.

On the eighth day, Jason finally emerged. He was cleaned up, shaved, and back to his usual untouchable persona. But the look he gave me was colder than ever, as if I’d somehow caused his little girlfriend to die.

I waited, silent. I knew that a storm was brewing.

We'd known each other for so long, we’d gone from school uniforms to wedding gowns. I had always thought we'd walk this road together, all the way.

But then, somewhere along the line, he’d decided to jump ship. Now I was left to pick up the pieces.

“Where is she?” Jason’s voice was flat, devoid of emotion.

After a long silence, I answered quietly, “Buried.”

His face twisted into a mask of hate, his eyes locking onto me with a dark fury.

“Lara, who gave you permission to bury her?”

“You think your dirty hands were worthy of touching her?” he spat out, each word biting like a whip.

I knew, if I wasn’t pregnant right now, he would have strangled me.

And yet, I must have overestimated my importance to him.

The next thing I knew, he’d slammed me onto the couch, his large hands tightening around my throat, squeezing the air out of my lungs.

My vision swam, darkening around the edges. My ears began to ring.

He was practically howling, "You think being pregnant makes you untouchable?

“That's just some little accident, I couldn't care less about the kid.

"Sarah's dead. And don't worry, you and the little brat in your belly are next."

The crushing fear of suffocating finally forced me to cry out for help. But his grip was too strong, the sound was muffled.

I knew then – Jason really meant to kill me.

I don't know how long it was, but then, the crushing weight lifted, followed by the sound...