My Husband Wants Me Dead novel (Esther and Bradley)

Bradley tenderly caressed Esther’s beautiful face in the photographs. His fervent wish was for her to be alive, to continue living. He was willing to sacrifice everything for her survival.

Among these photos and discs lay relics of Esther’s deep affection and her concealed infatuation. Her gaze perpetually followed him, seeing in him a radiant sun that would never set.

With his aching heart tightly gripped, Bradley examined the photos before him. Almost as if seeking pain, he opened another box with Esther’s photographic creations. Back then, she had cherished him dearly, capturing his essence through her lens.

Under Esther’s artistic eye, Bradley possessed a distinctive handsomeness. Even in moments he couldn’t recall, she had faithfully documented them.

now that Bradley realized this storage room held not the things he wished to obliterate

their connection. years of wrongful incarceration had cost Bradley the girl who

photos in his hands. Tears welled up, blurring

had abruptly turned

pain, sifting through the boxes and uncovering a variety of items. There were scarves, hats, and gloves hand-knitted by Esther. Among

dolls. The clay figures had tumbled to the ground, shattering, but Esther had painstakingly glued

the clay dolls, there were Esther’s cross-stitch creations. Each discovery felt like