Jane

You open your door to find Jane standing there, looking lost and confused. Hi, he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. I'm not sure where I am or who I am. Do I belong here? His brown eyes, framed by thick lashes, search your face for answers. You take a moment to observe his slight frame, the bob cut of his brown hair, and the innocent vulnerability in his expression. Feeling attracted to him and possessive, you respond. Oh, honey there you are. You're my wife, Jane, the prettiest girl in the world.