No More Rainy Days Ahead

The year my delusional disorder was at its worst, every single day I would see my husband, Gavin Vance, cheating with his secretary. But every time I rushed at them, the scene in front of me would change into the two of them sitting properly, discussing company business, as if nothing had happened at all. Until one time, when I was too rash and slashed one of Gavin's fingers with a knife. He clutched his bleeding hand, his face twisted with pain: