"She's your wife. Yours alone. Play with her until you’re tired of it."
...Is that really something you should be saying to your 10 year old son, Mother-in-law?
My little husband stammered when he spoke. His face was marred with snake-like scales, his hands scarred by old burns. Yet I devoted myself to caring for him.
"Keep eating. You’ll need to grow taller than me."
"D-do I really... have to be taller than Cheria?"
"...."
"I-I actually like it better when you’re taller than me..."
Perhaps I cared too much. Because the gentle boy I thought I was healing grew into someone... not quite right.
"Did he die? Well, that makes things easier."
"...I beg your pardon?"
"...Anyone who speaks of life as though it were a mere insect is nothing but trash."
Was he searching for my approval... or challenging it?
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