My husband was romantic, bringing me flowers for no reason.
For any reason.
I miss those flowers.
My husband bought me diamonds, swept me away to exotic locales, swept me off my feet.
I miss those adventures.
My husband played practical jokes, left notes, left clues, left presents in tiny boxes, but the Changeling has no time for jokes, for laughter, for silly things.
I miss all these things.
I try to make the Changeling laugh, sprinkle distractions around the house like birdseed in the hope of luring my husband back from wherever he’s been taken, wherever he’s being held hostage.
I will pay any price to bring him home. But there is no ransom offered for me to pay.