Page 220 of God of War (Legacy of Gods)

Every. Single. One.

My father included.

However, I wasn’t ready to watch her try to commit suicide again. Or, worse, tighten security further or place her in a straitjacket. That will not be happening under my watch, no matter how much her parents argue that discharging her is not the right solution.

Or how much Dr. Blaine says that my wife is prone to exhibit harmful behavior to both herself and those around her. Namely me.

She’s wrong.

Sam, Henderson, and I have it under control. If she gets antsy due to my presence, which admittedly happens a lot lately, I simply stay out of sight and let Sam take care of her. She’s a trained medical professional and therapist, which is part of the reason my parents hired her as my nanny. She knew how to deal with my destructive behavior and handles Ava professionally well when she’s having her episodes.

She’s also the one who first noticed that my wife’s state worsens whenever I’m present and relayed that to Dr. Blaine.

Due to Ava’s frequent episodes, I’ve had to stay away more than I prefer. Even tonight, I buried myself in paperwork at the office and only had Alan drive me back home when Sam texted that my wife had fallen asleep.

Here’s to another night of watching her through monitors.

Although I hate to admit it, Henderson was right when he said this isn’t a marriage but torture for both of us.

Ava doesn’t want to be with me, and even though she’s been scared of me since the wedding, she often suggests that we split up while swearing that she’ll never tell anyone about the murder.

I turn crueler whenever she mentions that, but that’s because it’s the only method I can think of to keep her beside me. If she’s scared of me, she’ll never leave me.

If she’s scared of me, she’ll realize her survival depends only on me.

Yes, I recognize that if I trust Dr. Blaine and have her admitted to the hospital for five to six months and give her time to try out her therapy method, I might get a more present wife. I’ll have the girl whose life became so intertwined with mine, I can’t imagine myself without her.

But the images of her strangling herself with the sheets in that goddamn dark hospital room haunt me.

I’d never put her in that place again.

Never.

I run a hand down my face and release a long sigh, then smile bitterly.

There was a day when I thought I’d get this obsession out of my system and move on with my life, but I only managed to get so attached to my wife that nausea fills my throat at the thought of losing her.

My feet come to a halt when I find Ava at the top of the stairs. She’s wearing a soft off-white silk gown and her long blonde hair frames her face like a halo.

She looks like my own fucking angel.

Broken wings and all.

Her face is passive, no emotion showing through as she stares at me, both hands behind her back.

Usually, I’d touch her throat to feel her pulse—it’s the surest way to know whether or not she’s in a fugue state. If it’s low, she’s out of it. If it’s pumping hard and strong, she’s all right.

For a while, at least.

But since I shouldn’t be coming in contact with her, I turn to leave as I reach for my phone to text Sam.

“Why can’t you look at me?” she asks in a brittle voice, her words haunting in the silence.

“It’s not that.” I stop but don’t face her. No matter how precious it is to hear her voice lately. She’s barely talked if at all in the past several weeks.

“What is it, then? Why is it that even now, you don’t look at me? Do you find me unsightly?”

I whirl around and curse under my breath as a tear clings to her lashes and spills down her cheek. “Never.”

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