Inside, I am bitter. Every ‘thank you’ I receive hits me in the chest like a sledgehammer. Every time someone tells me I am brave or strong I want...to vomit on my shoes. I hate being a good woman. I hate being a good wife. I hate that it’s all I can do, that it’s all I know, that it’s all I can ever be. Every day is another regret. Every night is another fantasy of escape. Each time I leave my house, even if it’s just a visit to the grocery store or coffee shop, I cry at the thought of. ‘Oh,’ Baltin openly ran his eyes up and down the moth next to the spider. ‘Seems to me it has hit well enough.’ Baltin winked at Lei, who, shy as a teen, huddled closer to her mate. Baltin cleared his throat, he hadn’t realised the moth was too sensitive for such a joke. Apparently she was more shy when she wasn’t gorging sweet things. ‘I’m really glad you came,’ reiterated Baltin. ‘I hope you don’t mind that we started without you.’ ‘We don’t mind,’ said the moth. ‘We only came by to say hi,’. More

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