“Just because the contract allowed you to wriggle between my thighs does not make us friends or require I spend time with you and yours.” Lantessa knew her voice was louder than the norm, but she was frustrated. Pregnant and frustrated and tired and wanted her ‘husband’ to go away and leave her to her day.

She wouldn’t look at him, but the darkened skin of the dome clearly reflected his stance and mood. Regigul looked away, feigning reflection or composure or possibly, though she didn’t think it possible, an inner dialogue.

“Tessie, as your husband…”