by HelluvaGirl

You couldn’t be my mistress, he said determined.

Why? I asked, suddenly almost offended.

Because I like your home with its artistic mess. Because I like the way you talk bilingually, mixing English words with Lithuanian phrases – which I’m sure many would find snobbish. Because I like your inner elegance and your wrists. Because our children are friends.

You could not be my mistress, because we are already something else.