Julian's words hung in the air like poison. "You're just a spoiled, malicious, and vindictive human!"
I looked at him, this man I had loved for five years, and felt nothing but cold, crystalline clarity. The scales had fallen from my eyes. I saw him for exactly what he was—a weak, entitled boy playing at being a man.
"I'm vindictive?" I said, my voice deadly calm. "She insulted my dead parents, Julian. She mocked my mother and father to my face. And you're defending her?"
Serafina, still draped dramatically against Julian's chest, her designer dress soaked and clinging to her body in a way that left little to the imagination, looked up at him with those wide, innocent eyes. "I didn't mean it like that, Julian. I was just stating facts. Humans do have shorter lifespans. It's not my fault if she's sensitive about the truth."
The sheer audacity of the lie was breathtaking.
