The morning came with a wake-up song from the upbeat birds. Thin lime curtains blocked the window, keeping the bright sunlight from beating down on the waking husband.
He looked around the jumbled room, not knowing where he was. All he knew was the front of his body stung.
"Where... am I?" He asked himself, sitting up and taking off the blankets.
Then a soft knock came from the door, making the husband jump slightly.
"... Honey?" Said the sheepish voice of the woman.
The door slowly cracked open as she peeked in, averting her eyes from his. She fidgeted with her ring as she stepped inside the room.
"Uuum... I hope it doesn't hurt too bad... I'm really sorry. I'm really sorry... I didn't want to, but that woman and-and seeing you in that room again I just... I wasn't planning on that. I didn't think you'd run in there, I... I don't know. I don't know... it was just... too much..."
As she spoke, the husband looked at her intently. There was something about her that nagged at him. The woman finally looked at him and noticed his stare. She flashed a quick smile and averted her eyes again.
"It's... kind of embarrassing when you look at me that hard, honey... is... is something wrong?"
He kept staring, trying to place her. Something about her was eerily familiar to him. Her shoulders raised and she tucked her lips in as she gently scratched at her chest.
Then her brunette hair faded to a dark blonde and back. The flower on her hair clip slightly convulsed as some of the waves in her hair straitened down to her back and curled back up.
And the husband finally broke the silence.
"... Who... who... do I..."
Curious, the woman looked up at him, her hair interchanging quicker.
"You're..."
The woman started to frown.
"Are you... my... my..."
She perked up, eagerly taking a step forward. Her smile glowed and she shined with excitement. Her shimmering emerald charm took hold of him while she pressed a palm over her mouth, gasping.
"My..."
But he couldn't say it.
A bud swallowed the flower on her hair clip and bloomed into a bigger and fuller live Mock Orange, specs of white light gliding out from its center, glistening and floating towards the ground. Small vines rapidly sprouted from the flower, completely encasing her changing hair. Hundreds of buds popped out of the vines and bloomed a smaller version of the same flower; specs of small, glistening light gliding out from each. A pedal on one of the smaller flowers detached and circled her. Another from a different flower detached and followed. Soon all of the pedals from the smaller flowers began detaching and dancing around her, dissolving the cage that held her now brunette hair, some vines intertwined in it. The specs of light gathered around her head until they formed a thin crown, the rest sprinkled all around her hair.
Enchanted, the husband finally spoke.
"... Who are you?"
He gently scratched at his stomach, the silver ring on his finger twinkling.
She took a moment to stare at him.
She sniffed while her knuckle took a smooth sheen as it ran along the bottom of her eyes. Some specs of light trailed off behind her as she took a couple of steps forward, stopping near the bedside with folded hands, the dancing pedals still encircling her.
A shadow coming from the window cut diagonally across her, shrouding the left side of her body. She tilted her head and a warm smile slowly grew, half of it taken by the shadow. The flower pedals were tainted red as they passed through the shade, then reverted back to normal out of the shade. A ripped white sundress suffusing blue from several different blotches sagged over her left shoulder, gashes and scars peeking through the tears and holes in it. Her right eye glistened a beautiful emerald in the light while her left--now with a dark slit down the middle--hid in the darkness.
And with the sweet voice that left a distasteful feeling and inflamed the surface of his stomach and chest, she gave him the answer she will always give him for as long as it takes.
"I'm your wife."
And she grinned.
YOU ARE READING
His Lovely Wife
Mystery / Thriller"Who are you?" It was a question he's asked her a thousand times, that's cut her deep a thousand times, a question that never ends. All she ever wants is for him to remember her even if it only lasts a week, a day, or even just thirty minutes-it'll...
