Even the corners and edges were padded with soft protective strips because he was afraid I would bump into them.
Jean always said, "Juliet, in my heart, you will always be a child."
"I want you, Juliet Mason, to be the happiest princess in the world."
"My little princess."
That was why my friends said to me, "Which man doesn't mess around? Jean is already considered good; he doesn't gamble, doesn't frequent prostitutes and doesn't keep mistresses. He's completely devoted to you, Juliet. Stop making a fuss."
I understood.
These were Jean’s messengers, his way of giving me a step down. If I played along, we could pretend nothing happened, just like after every fight before and start over again.
But suddenly, I didn't want to anymore.
I was just stubborn, so stubborn that when I saw Gwen's latest WhatsApp Story update, it was a picture of her and her child sitting on a Ferris wheel, smiling brightly, with the caption,
[The child said, "Even if Dad isn't my biological father, as long as there's love, we're a family."]
In the corner of the photo, there was a pair of hands with clearly defined knuckles.
I couldn't possibly not recognize them.