THE HUSBAND THEY MURDERED

"Happy birthday!!"

Hart froze immediately he walked into the room.

The light flicked on, startling him to shock.

"Damn!" He gasped, one hand planted on his chest.

The family members of the Crowe family were gathered in the living room, wide smiles that was too realistic to be false on their faces. It has never happened before, which made Hart momentarily shocked and confused.

He was the useless son-in-law of the family and they treated him as such. Celebration? Hell no! It was always Hell.

But right now, all of them were gathered with cake lit with candles at the centre, welcoming him with a smile like he mattered.

Hannah, his wife stepped forward, she was dressed in a flamboyant crimson gown that was too loud, a gold neckpiece on her neck, catching the light and throwing it across the room. Perfect. Her smile was perfect too. The kind Hart had never seen on her face before.

She clicked over to him with the smile on her face.

"What is going on, Hannah?" Hart asked, his eyes darting about the room in confusion like he still needed a second head to process everything.

Hannah put her arm around his arm and gently pulled him forward.

"Happy birthday to you!! Happy birthday to you!! Happy birthday to you Hart.."

The melody was perfect, the smiles were real. Too real to be suspicious of any ulterior motives, and their laughter were the loudest thing Hart has ever heard in a long time.

Margaret Crowe, her mother walked over to him with a sweet smile that hid poison behind it.

"Son, happy birthday to you," She cooed, "I know you must be in shock. Hannah informed the family about your birthday so we prepared something modest to celebrate you."

Hart swallowed hard, forcing a smile that could have been genuine to his face.

His eyes darted around. From the glossy gifts stacked at the side, to the cake at the centre, and to the easy smiles on everyone's face like they had always treated him like this.

No, they don't.

He was treated like a rag in the family, insulted even when he cleaned after them. This family could give him anything but celebrating his birthday?

He wasn't expecting it.

And he thought maybe the family had finally seen his worth, maybe they have finally accepted him, and maybe all the humiliations and insults were just a test to prove his patience.

He blended into the moment.

"Come and blow out the candle sweetheart" Hannah's voice was silk as she led him to the cake with a sweet smile while inside, her thoughts were different; TODAY WILL BE YOUR LAST.

Hart nodded his head gently, his earlier tight smile smoothing out now.

"You look shocked." She whispered into his ear, the expensive perfume wafting from her dress dangerously appealing.

"I am." Hart said, holding the knife. Then a faint genuine smile crossed his face. "I wasn't expecting you to remember my day."

Hannah rubbed his back gently. This was the same woman who had always avoided his touch. He couldn't remember the last time she allowed him to graze her finger. The master bedroom was forbidden for him, the clean living room was not his place, and when guests arrive, he won't be introduced as a family member but a servant because they were too embarrassed to point at him.

"You finally proved my family wrong," She giggled into his ear, her voice soft, almost romantic, "that you have the patience to handle a family."

Hart stared at her and smiled. He believed it. He really does.

"I have something important to tell you after this." Hart said.

"Something important?" She arched a brow. Too real.

"Relax," Hart giggled lightly, "It's nothing serious."

Hannah nodded, smirking. The moment Hart turned towards the cake, the smile on her face vanished to something dangerous.

Hart picked the knife and cut through the cake.

The room exploded with applause.

Hannah took the knife that would end him but it was unbeknownst to him yet, and she cut out a portion of the cake, feeding him with a bite that would be his last while Hart smiled, soaking it all up.

Wines were poured. The expensive kinds. Glasses clinked, laughter rang through the room in symphonic rhythm and Hart melted into the moment, unaware of the danger that awaited him.

The family wasn't celebrating his birthday. They were celebrating his burial. Not even it. They were celebrating something he kept away that would make the family rich.

The dizziness hit him like a wave. Hart swayed. The glass wine slipped from his grip and shattered into shards across the floor.

"Oh, I'm drunk already.." He forced a weak laughter. His vision was blurring at the edge. He shook his head to shake off the dizziness but it stayed with the promise to swallow him. Hannah supported him with her arm around his waist, a sharp smirk on her lips. "You're drunk already? Just one gulp?" She giggled.

"The wine..it must be an expensive brand. More alcoholic than the usual one I take maybe." He staggered, but Hannah stayed at his side as though she always belonged there, balancing his weight on her shoulder like she was doing him a favor.

"Let me take you to your room then." She said and set her glass down on the table with a sharp click. Hart's weight tilted to her shoulder as he led him away from the noise and opened the door of the bedroom. Hart slumped to the bed exhaustively.

His body was heavy as stone, his vision was catching the light and roof in a blur, and the world around him was silent while his head was ringing with a fever-pitch frequency.

Hannah stood beside the bed, her smile gone, replaced with something dangerous. She pulled out the same knife he earlier used on the cake, crumbs were still clinging to the silver metal.

Hart saw her silhouette through the fog that covered his vision. Her hand was raised, and something glistened in her hand which he couldn't quite see well.

"Hannah..what are you doing.."

Hart tried to move his body but his weight was stone, like something hard pressed him down.

"I thought marrying you was the worst decision, but it turns out you have something useful which you don't deserve. I'll take your life and take everything that belongs to you."

SLUSH!

The knife went through Hart's chest, cutting through his heart.

Blood spilled.