Twenty years of love.

Twenty years of lies.

Till death do us part was a bold statement that assumed death was the natural end to all things. But that was a phrase that came about long after my kind had been forgotten.

My unwilling wife was a beautiful woman full of grace and poise, but the last year of our relationship had been bumpy at best. She was always headstrong and independent, challenging my thoughts and perceptions, but now, she challenged me as an individual, as a person.

When she said, "We need to talk," I felt my heart drop. I had treated her well, better than I had treated any other in any other form. But something was wrong. With her? With us? With me?

She was wearing high-waisted pale blue jeans with a light, airy plaid shirt over a white tanktop. She sat across from me at the table in our kitchen. It was a bright day outside, despite the mounting dread I felt.

As soon as I took my seat across from her, she placed her folded hands on the table. She looked me in the eyes, and the room fell quiet. Everything faded away. The alarm of the car outside going off didn't matter, nor did the cawing of the crows in the distance. I could hear her heart racing, but it wasn't like I had heard before. It was anxious, it was angry. She asked me but four words: "Where's my husband Tyler?"

I sat there, stunned. Tyler. I knew who Tyler was. I had consumed Tyler long ago, to be precise, twenty years ago. He entered my domain looking for his wedding band, and I rewarded him with infinite life through me. I took his shape, I took his ring, and emerged to find his wife before me. This man had loved his wife like no other, and over the twenty years we were together, I came to incorporate that love into myself. "Jessica..."

She repeated, getting increasingly upset, "Where's my husband Tyler?" My hand reflexively reached out for hers, but she recoiled. "Don't touch me."

The pain I hurt was magnified; it was his, and it was mine. To see her, feel her, reject me so obviously when I had given her everything, given my everything for her. "He's here. He's right here."

"For how long have you been pretending to be Tyler?" Her hands shook and she unlaced her fingers, balling her hands into fists.

"Listen to me, Jessica..."

She stood up and reached across the table, grabbing me by my shirt and scrunched her nose in utter disgust. "WHERE IS MY HUSBAND TYLER YOU FAKE?!"

"... do you want to be with him?" I asked calmly. This was the only way to save her, to save our love.

"Is he dead?"

"Not exactly."

"... yes. I want to be with Tyler. I married him and love him and want to be with him forever."

I loved her so much. I felt myself salivating. It had been such a long time...