He never wasted food.
I was served to him on a silver platter and he treated me as such.
He unwrapped his silver ware and placed his napkin in his lap.
He’d start with the vegetables- the parts of me I did not find appetizing.
He made every bite look as lush and flavorful as the last.
He devoured my meat and flesh and sucked on my bones. Every bit of me was accounted for. Everyday he gave reason to every course of me.
I remained discontent. Hateful in fact. I wondered why he could not taste how bitter I had become…
I could only explain my rage in one way:
I did not want to be his main course, if someone else was his desert.
Chapter 5: Sweet Tooth.