I looked down at her. If you didn't know better you'd think she was deep asleep. A pleasant quiet sleep that is, until on closer inspection. You'd run a mile if you saw the other half of the face.

I knew what I'd done and I could hardly look. Couldn't face my own handiwork. I had destroyed that lovely face. A face I used to adore.

<><>

It all started so innocently. Doesn't it always? But we'd both been too busy of late. Somehow there was never time to share a meal together or if there was, we were both too tired to make the effort. Before, we always sat down to a light dinner with a bottle of wine, going over the day. That way we would unwind, something we both enjoyed, sharing the ups and downs we'd encountered at work.

Only yesterday, I thought I would give it one more try. Leaving work early I dropped in at the food market on the way home. I was in the kitchen preparing Rebecca's favourite pasta when she arrived home.

I turned around, still stirring the food.

"Hi Honey, you look tired, why don't you pour us both a glass of wine and sit down while I finish this? I'm almost there." I looked at her expectantly.

"Oh John, I don't know. The wine sounds good, but I'm not sure I'm all that hungry. And by the way, you never seem to get the dish right anyway."

I swallowed, trying hard not to say anything I would later regret, and in the end we just sat down and ate not saying a word to each other.

There was no doubt that I'd adored her from the minute I met her.

I could still remember spotting her at the other end of the crowded room, not believing when she took an interest in me and we hit it off.

It was a whirlwind romance, and six months later we were married.

We used to do everything together, never wanting to be apart. Our friends used to muse that we were like Siamese twins not easy to separate if at all possible. But gradually that started to change.

A change we hardly noticed ourselves, and when we did it was too late.

Our work took more and more of our time. The talk of children was put on the back burner, and more and more nights we went to bed, both of us falling asleep the minute our head hit the pillow. The memory of great sex fading fast.

And then the arguments started. I can't remember what triggered them, let alone what they were about. At least not in the beginning. But slowly, they became more frequent and, if not violent, then rather more vocal.

We managed to hide our downward spiral to friends and family. I honestly don't think that anybody had any idea how bad it really was.

The nagging was the worst though. If I hadn't noticed it before, the nagging that is, it soon became apparent. I couldn't do anything right or so it seemed. Of course, you would say, this is all one sided and so typically male to say a woman nags. But that's what it felt like. Actually, I couldn't see that I was much in the wrong at all.

The point is that as our marriage deteriorated, so did our arguments. It became so bad that not one day passed without some shouting or other, and today was the last straw. Well, at least for me.

Not only did I have some shitty dealings with my clients, but my boss called me in later for a private chat. He explained that my performance had been somewhat lacking as of late, and if that continued he would have to review my employment with him.

So, all I wanted, when I came home, was to pour myself a stiff drink and bury myself in front of the TV, forgetting that the outside world even existed.

And guess what happened? In walks Madam and starts to berate me for this that and the other.

At first I asked her if we could sit down and talk as civilised people. I wanted to tell her about my bad day at the office and to discuss what we would like to do if I was to lose my job. In short, to make some plans.

But no, she was having none of it.

"You know John, you're turning into a slob. All you seem to know is to sit in front of the 'box', drink in hand feeling sorry for yourself. Typical behaviour of a loser if I've ever seen one!" She looked at me in disdain.

It was then that I felt something snapping inside. To be called a loser was the last straw.

From there, I don't remember much, if anything.

<><>

And now, I look down at what was once my beautiful wife. It is all a blur and somewhat unreal. What I do know though is that the police are arriving very soon and I will be spending the rest of my life in jail.

I've made the wrong move in a moment of passion, and I'll have to live with the repercussions for the rest of my life.

Believe me, I loved her so very much.