The Muse Who Shattered Our Vows

Three months ago, Ryan Mitchell became obsessively infatuated with a singer at a jazz club.

That girl, Scarlett, exuded a rebellious New York vibe, with heavy makeup but clear eyes. When Ryan handed her the keys to a Manhattan apartment, she rejected them without hesitation.

"I'm not anyone's caged canary, Mr. Mitchell."

Those simple words made Ryan completely lose his mind.

He spent a fortune on her, even renting an entire LED screen in Times Square for her, completely forgetting about his wife of seven years who had dedicated her youth and talent to him.

I, Emma Collins, didn't argue or yell. I just quietly tore up one of the oil paintings he had created for me every time he stayed out all night for Scarlett.

When he left me in the pouring rain because of one negative Instagram post from Scarlett, I shredded the first painting he had ever given me.When he missed his father's funeral just to rent out an entire club to hear Scarlett sing, I destroyed the tenth painting.

When he removed our wedding ring because of a single contemptuous glance from Scarlett, I ruined the twenty-ninth painting.

Now, he has abandoned me alone in the Alaskan wilderness because Scarlett casually complained about the cold weather.

And in my hands, only one last painting remains.

Taking a deep breath, I dialed the phone:

"Jack, I need divorce papers."