So this story will be 4 chapters, each one in a different point of view. Hopefully it's not too confusing. Yall let me know what you think please:) Enjoy!

JOHN

I woke up this morning to my wife bitching at me again. I guess I should be used to it by now, after 10 years of marriage. Over the years our fights have changed from money and kids to divorce and they've become more and more violent; never on my end though. I come from a traditional Catholic family and divorce is not an option. But it's more than just my religion keeping me from signing on the dotted line; I just can't pull myself to do it. Michelle drives me crazy but I can't let go of all our history. We are high school sweethearts and I've never been with anyone else, I wouldn't know how to be without her.

I made my money in the NFL. I never played but I climbed the corporate ladder and have made some amazing friends along the way. When I got to work this morning, my secretary could see on my face that it was going to be another rough day, but as always she tries her best to cheer me up

"Good morning, Mr. McCoy!"

"Hello, Charlotte. What have I got to do today?" I said with zero enthusiasm and a long sigh.

"Oh, Jeremy is here to see you. Didn't you know? He said it was important."

"Right. Thanks." I walked into my office to find Jeremy sitting in my chair with a stupid grin on his face. He could tell I was confused so he got to the point.

"Listen man, you need a fun weekend; A fucking break from that woman."

"Do you need to say it like that?" I frowned at him.

"Fine. How about you and me and some of the guys go out to the river? Catch some fish and forget about that bitch."

"Sounds good to me man. Just tell me when and where and I'll be there. But you have got to stop bitching about my wife." I agreed to go on this "man-trip" but I honestly didn't think anything could take my mind off of my problems at home.

This was the longest week of my life. I think Michelle shoved something up her ass because she was on my case more than usual. She was standing in the entry way when I got home from work with a sweet smile on her face. I miss that smile. She used to smile like that when she saw me, when we were still young and madly in love.

"Hey, I just wanted to apologize for how I've been acting this week. I made dinner…"

"Uh, thanks babe. It smells great."

She led me into the dining room and she must have felt bad or something because she really out did herself. It looked like she had been cooking all day long. The entire table was covered in food and there were a couple bottles of wine. We sat down and had the first pleasant dinner we've had in years. It was such a relief and she kept giving me these sensual looks from across the table. Surely, we weren't going to have sex tonight. I had so many thoughts going through my head that everything she did made me think she was trying to seduce me.

When we finished eating, I helped her clean up and she kept brushing up against me and giggling in this really sexual way. I couldn't wrap my head around how she was acting. This wasn't her…well it was her, but it's how she used to be. She was bitter and hateful now; this woman who cooked me dinner was unbelievable, definitely not my wife. I put the last dish in the dishwasher and with that she kissed me on my cheek, grabbed her coat and ran for the door.

"I'm going to my mother's house for the weekend! I just need to get away from this house and you for awhile." And with that she slammed the door behind her. I just stood there with my mouth hanging open. She was bipolar. Surely she was bipolar, how was it that we just had this amazing dinner and then she just up and leaves?

"Fucking bitch…" I say to myself. I grab the bottle of wine from the table and begin to drink it with no glass. I starting getting undressed and I was already pretty drunk when I heard the front door open and close. A huge grin spread across my face and I lay back on the bed butt naked and turned off the lights.

They walked in and said something but I couldn't hear what it was. When the light flicked on, I couldn't tell who it was; they were wearing a big cloak and hood to cover their face. What I could tell was that this person was holding a shot gun. I knew what was coming next; they raised the gun slowly and pulled off their hood to reveal their face. All the blood drained from my face as I realized who it was; I felt so betrayed. All I heard was the shot fire and all I felt was excruciating pain and heartbreak.