Page 19 of The Grim Reaper's Wife

She began to eat, paying no mind to my antics and I did the same.

“Do you like photography?” I asked, not wanting to mention that Jason was the reason I knew what she was up to for the day or my additional eyes around the compound. I didn’t want her to feel as though she was under a microscope in my care.

She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. I did it a lot when I was younger, but I stopped when I married Ilya. He was …controlling.”

I hummed.

She continued and I let her because this was the most I had heard her speak. It was clear that she didn’t want to be married, and even more so to a made man.

Nonetheless, I hoped that the garden served as a symbol of how rewarding life could be at my side.

“I’m trying to figure out what I like.”

I gently placed my cutlery at the side of the plate and reached into the side of my jacket, retrieving my wallet. I then slide my black card to her and tucked my wallet back to its original position before resuming eating my dinner.

She look puzzled at the plastic card, her eyes darting to me.

“For you to figure out what you like,” I said, plainly, filling my mouth with another piece of the tender meat Louise prepared.

She still looked confused, but only turned back to her plate and muttered, “Thank you.”

I expected more resistance from her, but she didn’t give me the pleasure so instead I said, “You’re welcome.”

And that was the last we spoke for the remainder of the night. She had returned to her shell while I waited until she would shed it.

***

The next day, I was able to check to see if my wife was still being as stubborn as she normally was, but she surprised me once again.

I was charged for yarn, needles, books, pens, another camera, and equipment for what I thought was pottery.

I didn’t bother to look at the price because it didn’t matter. I encouraged her happiness no matter how much it cost me.

And like clockwork, we sat at dinner as Louise served us another pasta dish.

“Thank you, Louise,” she said, her hand squeezing Louise’s own again.

“You’re welcome, my dear.”

After years of trying to convince Louise to call me anything but Mr. Galdur, in a matter of two lousy nights she had a pet name for my wife.

I would scoff but I commended her for helping Mia relax in our home. I saw the way her shoulders sagged when Louise smiled at her.

It seemed like she was always in fight or flight mode; watching her surroundings, me and anyone she deemed a threat. I knew she felt uneasy being here, afraid of any monsters that lurked around the corners.

While we ate, I asked, “Did you figure out what you like?”

Her personality peaked, as her brown eyes sparkled like the ring on her finger.

“I’m trying a bunch of things. Knitting, writing, reading, art, even pottery. I’m excited,” she said, smiling.

As if she realized where she was, she settled back down and played with the food on her plate.

I still sported the grin as I stared at her curly hair that was now hiding her face. Something I also realized she did- using her hair to make herself seem smaller- even though it did the opposite.

I hummed.

“I’ll have one of the rooms upstairs repurposed for your hobbies,” I said, drinking a bit of water to wash down the last of the pasta.

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