When I woke up he had already gone off to work. I turned in bed to find a steaming cup of hot tea on the bedside table, next to a simple white card with an embossed heart on the front. Our anniversary! He hadn’t forgotten!
Inside the card was one sentence written in giant black cursive: I love you so much.
In the kitchen there was my favorite breakfast: toast with peanut butter and jam, eggs and bacon, and a cup of granola with yogurt and berries. Another card: I love you more than ever. I ate the delicious breakfast and beamed when I thought about how much I loved him.
At work my cubicle was dominated by a giant vase of enormous roses and a heat-shaped box of chocolates. Next to it was another card: I love you more than ever, more and more each day.
Finally work was over and I went home. I just wanted to take him in my arms and kiss him and tell him how much I loved him too. I burst through the front door and into the kitchen.
His body was slouched in one of the chairs around the kitchen table. The front of his dress shirt was slashed open and stained with blood; he’d been stabbed multiple times. My world collapsed and I cried. It wasn’t until after I had called the police, still crying, that I found it. I read the message, blurred by my tears, one scrawled and scribbled in a psychotic hand on a simple piece of brown butcher’s paper: I love you more than ever. SEE YOU SOON