[bad word] here as a man in shambles—worn out from begging on my knees. Please, I’m just trying to keep my family together. Now, when you saw you’re lover wore a ring around her finger, why didn’t you stop?

I have half a mind to make you hurt, to make you bleed, to make you suffer. I swear, if you’ve touched her—oh, heaven, forgive what I would do to you, you monster. And think about your children? They’ll never believe what you’ve done.

Listen, I’m begging you, back off. Let me rebuild all the things that you shattered.

She meant it, I swear that she meant it, she whispered so often, ‘Husband, I’ll always be here with you.’

But always is always and always is valueless. I wish I’d never heard her speak a word.

And I hope you see us—your wife and your children and I— buried in the wreckage of your crime, while you’re laying down your sins, softly leaning in to kiss your guilt goodnight.”

She is mine. You stole her, somehow tricked her but
We’ll survive. We will. She loves me dearly—you’ll see. 
You are blind. She loves me dearly.

Breathe in.

He finally paused to take a breath then looked down—it felt like staring into [bad word]  
The man was seated in a chair before him, silent, a statue framed in pain and flesh. He thought, “Oh, what more can I say to sway him? To make this statue speak? I swear he’s made of stone and I am barely stirring up a breeze.” 

And after waiting in the silence, finally turned around to leave.
Broken and barely through the doorway, breathing slowly, beating hard, he heard him speak: 

“I guess love’s a funny thing—the way it fades away without a warning. It doesn’t ask to be excused. And when it’s gone—oh, it’s gone—and it ain’t [bad word]  back. 

There is nothing you can do to save it, to make it breathe the way it did when you were sliding on the ring. [bad word] me: It’s gone for good. 

Now there is nothing you can do to stop me. She is happy when she is with me and I am finally alive. I’m sorry.”