"I once loved a woman," Manfred said slowly, the words trembling in his throat. "To me, she was an angel…"
That word—angel—shook in his voice like a wound ripped open.
Janet saw it—an unmistakable glimmer of longing in his eyes. He must have loved her deeply, once. Maybe too deeply. And maybe… that's why he ended up hating women so much.
"She… hurt you?" Janet asked quietly.
Manfred covered his face with one hand, his voice turning bitter, laced with scorn. "She was a whore—willing to spread her legs for any man who looked her way. And I… I found out too late."
He laughed—harsh, cold.
"Janet, do you know what it's like to see the woman you love beneath another man?" His tone cracked. "Do you know what it does to you?"
It kills you. Inside and out.
The image flooded his mind again. That face—so deceptively pure, so heartbreakingly beautiful—just like Janet's. But when he walked in that day, she was beneath another man. Not just any man.
His father.
