[ WP ] You are a detective who has closed every case but one , a serial murderer who has taunted you all your career . After retiring you start to suspect your significant other .

It was a nice retirement party. 
 
 The whole department had put together a nice thing for me, with the streamers and balloons and a cake with a little frosting magnifying glass on it. Cute. It was all so... cute. The handshakes, the smiles, the `` for he's a jolly good fellows'' were all so goddamned nice. But I could n't accept it. The back of my head was pushing towards my front, taunting me with `` they won, you lose'' and that shit. I could bear it, but I did n't like it. 
 
 After the party died down a little bit a headed into my office for the last time. As soon as I walked in I felt the stale, cigar-tainted smell that has welcomed me for all those years. The coffee-stained papers in the cabinets produced an aroma so familiar... dammit. Not even my first day off and I'm already feeling nostalgic. But the reminiscing was brought to a halt when I saw the file of `` The Candlelit Killer''. The goddamned Candlelit Caper, Crusher, whatever. A stupid, tacky name. Like something out of goddamned Rizzoli and Isles or some shit. Yet this had been the bastard that had taunted and teased me for all these years. The one that got away... it should n't bother me now but it did. I was so close... but it's over now. The son of a bitch is probably dead right now anyways. Last murder was 3 years ago, some poor 15 year old boy with his throat slit surrounded by a bunch of crude, homemade candle's and a non-lit one in his hand. The killer was probably some failed English major for Pete's sake, the way he killed these kids. Eh. It was over now. I needed to get home. 
 
 As soon as I came through the door my wife was there to greet me with a big kiss and hug. 
 
 `` It's finally over'', she said. `` We can be done now.'' She smiled at me and I attempted a smile back. This job had been my life for the past 23 years, and she had been with me for the majority of it. After we stopped embracing- *that's* when I noticed what she was wearing. An old t-shirt and some cargo pants, stained to hell and back. I was surprised the was n't more dressed up, to be honest. 
 
 `` Why are you wearing that? ``, I asked. 
 
 `` Oh, I've been working on a... project.'' 
 
 `` What project?'' 
 
 `` Oh I've been making candles. Y'know, for when I give you massages and stuff or when we have dinner.'' 
 
... 
 
 `` Okay.'' 
 
 How else was I supposed to respond?! Fucking CANDLES? It was like she was taunting me or something! I was legitimately mad at her, but I did n't show it. I was just overreacting, anyways. Why should I take it out on her? 
 
 I went to the bedroom and just lay their for a little bit, looking at the shelf across the room. All of our pictures together, some presents from friends, a deck of cards. An old candle. Some books. 
 
 The candle. What the fuck? Why was this shit still catching my eye? It DID N'T matter. 
 
 Then I scanned the room and saw another candle. Another. And another. Candles, the same color and shape and everything. A million thoughts went through my head. And I fucking bolted. 
 
 Now I'm here. I'm not even sure if she knows I'm gone yet, chief. But I have reason to believe my wife is the Candlelit Killer. 
 
 And I think I was her next victim.
