My Ashes Ground Under His Heel
After I refused the surrogacy plan my husband had with his old flame, he abandoned me on a deserted island.
When he finally came for me, all he found were my skeletal remains.
After a month of icy silence between my husband, Linus, and me, he suggested a weekend getaway to his private island in Puget Sound to patch things up.
But the moment we arrived, he confiscated my satellite phone, smashed the seaplane’s communication gear, and left me stranded on that isolated rock to fend for myself.
While his friends questioned his cruelty, he just brushed them off as he accompanied his childhood sweetheart, Kira, to a prenatal check-up. "It's not my fault," he'd say, "Rory's just making a big deal out of nothing."
"I was just helping Kira fulfill her dream of being a mother. It's not like I cheated on her. And now she wants a divorce over this?"
"The baby will be here in eight months," he continued, "and there are plenty of supplies on the island. She won't starve. She just needs a lesson."
Eight months later, clutching his newborn son, my husband Linus asked his assistant with a smug grin, "Hasn't she begged to come back yet?"
He never knew that I had died on that very first day, the moment my artificial heart failed.