Shaky alabaster hands sealed the letter that took her months to conceive, dry lips pinched into a frown so that the mask she had put up wouldn't come crumbling down.

She hurriedly placed it onto her vanity, stumbling down the stairs and into the kitchen before coming to a stand still as her husband came out of the bathroom and his eyes met her own.

His handsome face was settled into a frown as he watched her set down the steaming plate of egg omelet, sausage and pancakes onto the kitchen table before him.

She placed a careful smile onto her face, trying her best to act like the gentle and demure wife that she had been before everything had started to fall apart.

"I'm going to go to the company really quick, there's a problem with some products that are being returned," he said sternly, brows pinched in annoyance as he hurried to the front door and dragged on his work shoes, hands grabbing his suitcase while trying to tighten his tie at the same time.

"W-what about the food?" she asked, faking surprise although none of it surprised her anymore.

She only played the role of a perfect wife, getting up at 5 in the morning to cook him breakfast every day, cleaning the house till it sparkled and ironing his clothes to smooth perfection, but yet every single time he would always decline her.

Excuse after excuse after excuse on why he couldn't stay with her, couldn't love her the way she loved him anymore.

"I'll come back soon," he hastily replied, slamming the front door shut in his haste to leave, to get away from her as far as he can.

At first she had become numb but after several seconds her anger had gotten the better of her at that moment.

Tears streaming down in rivulets against her pale cheeks, dry lips bleeding as she screamed out in agony, fingers curled into fists once she heard his car engine roar to life.

The rage completely covered her vision when she grabbed the plate of food and slammed it onto the linoleum kitchen floor, bits of food flying everywhere in her display of anger.

The porcelain plate shattered into tiny little pieces just like her heart had when she swept the table with her arms causing the pitcher of orange juice to come falling down.

The juice splashed onto the table, pitcher rolling towards the edge and she didn't have the heart to care if it fell off.

The loud shattering of the glass was like music to her ears when the tea cups went after it, breaking into unrecognizable pieces.

She could hear her own heartbroken sobs as if it didn't belong to her before her legs collapsed underneath her, the orange juice soaking her socks and a small portion of her pale skirt.

The urge to cry is too great, since that has been all that she has been doing these last couple months.

She had become a shell of her former self and she was assured of this.

No longer holding that exuberance and innocent nature.

No longer that happy and deluded person that she once was.

All because of him.

All because of her husband, Sasuke Uchiha.

No more deceiving herself, with that thought she laughed bitterly, long bangs falling over her eyes as she felt tears well on inky lashes.

She couldn't see the happiness that they had before. Lost in a foray of new tears and sorrow she couldn't help but beg for repent but she knew that there would be none coming, there never would be any coming.

No.

There was no more tears left.

Her tears have dried and her resolve had hardened as the days went by and she prohibited herself from crying.

It wasn't a matter of choice anymore, it was a matter of need.

She would die if she continued to live like this.

She couldn't do that to herself.

She would leave him.

Her hands curled into a fist as she tried to stand but found herself unable to, possibly from the stress and anger that she had felt, limbs completely lacking strength.

Pale lips pursed when she noticed a darker liquid mixing with the spilled orange juice on the floor, the maroon color contrasted greatly on their cream colored linoleum and yet her mind couldn't process what it was.

It reminded her of...blood.

Blood? It was fine to bleed.

Especially when you're hurting, Hinata thought bitterly.

But why from her legs?

The deep red color contrasted greatly as she noticed the thin trail that came from her legs, slick against her flesh as a tear drop splattered onto her skirt.

She couldn't help the terrified scream that left her parted lips, her soul in complete agony when her brain finally process what it was that she was seeing.

.

.

.

Sasuke's tapered fingers quickly loosened his tie in irritation as his shoulders slumped in relief, entering the household and kicking off his shoes.

A sigh came from his mouth when the first thing he could hear was a bloodcurdling scream that could have only come from his wife.

He couldn't comprehend what was happening.

Hinata had become so distant lately, no longer greeting him with the same enthusiasm as before, her eyes never quite reaching his face when he talked to her.

It was starting to feel as if he was talking to himself now, her replies only consisting of 'yes', 'no', 'thank you'.

He didn't know what to expect from her anymore.

As a man, he didn't know what to do.

He didn't know how to fix things so that they were the way they used to be, when his Hinata was so much more happier than now.

With the situation as it was, he thought that if he let her be, let her do the things she wanted then she would be okay again but it just seemed to be getting worse by the days that drifted by.

He should have took more precautions, should have been there for her instead of avoiding the problem, instead of trying to cover up this mess.

With all that he had, he took off running as fast as he could towards where the scream came from, heart pounding wildly in his chest as he ran.

"Hinata!" he breathed out, taking in the sight before him.

There was shattered glass everywhere, food from the morning dissolved in the orange juice and he could clearly see the deep dark color of blood blended into the mix.

Hinata, his wife, sat in the middle of the mess, dried blood covering her bottom half, tears wetting a big spot on her shirt and he could only surmise that she had been sitting this way for a while.

The agony and pain was clear on her face and he couldn't help but feel a sense of hopelessness settle in as he dug into his pocket for his phone to call the ambulance.

God, he begged, please tell me what to do.

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.

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