A Wife, A Placeholder, A Lie

I felt was deeper, radiating from the inside out, a cold that had settled in my bo

telling me my parents were gone. I was twenty-two, an orphan in an instant. The doctors at the same hospital told me the damage from the crash

sserole and a kind smile. He listened to me cry. He held my hand. He told me I wasn't

ogacy, that we could still have the family I'd always dreamed of, it felt like a miracle. He handled everything, found a wonderful, an

ngers wrapping around mine. He was perfect. He looked so much like me, people s

were a bitter poiso

onvenience. He hadn't rebuilt my world; he had built a cage around me, decorated to look like a home. Every lovi

read him stories every night, kissed his scraped knees, celebrated his every tiny victory. I thought I was hi

f I saw myself in the child I was raising? Had he coached me, subtly, to dress a certain way, to wear

e docile and compliant while they used me. My life wasn't my own. It was a script they had written, and I had played my part perfectly, without ever realizing I