Adam reached over to the night stand without bothering to turn his head. When his fingers wrapped around the cold steel handle of the weapon he felt the usual surge of panic. His heart began beating faster; breathing suddenly became something that took effort.

This was her fault. In the end that is really all that mattered. If she hadn’t done it then he wouldn’t be here right now.

He pulled the weapon towards him. The barrel scrapped against the wood of the table, leaving a small trail, next to the others that were already there. His hand momentarily dropped as the weight of the weapon slipped off the tabletop. It always surprised him how heavy the thing was.

This time was different. He wasn’t going to let her do this to him again. He was going to end it now.

Adam couldn’t stop himself from wincing as the cold barrel touched his temple. His blood now sang in his ears and his breathing was coming in quick ragged heaves. A sob tore from his throat when he touched the cool metal of the trigger.