Levinne
I married my vampire husband ten years ago and gave him a half-blood heir, abandoning my career as a painter to become a full-time mother.
Fortunately, my son inherited my talent. At just six years old, he held his first solo art exhibition, inspired by the theme "My Mother."
But he never let me attend, and he never let me see his paintings.
My husband said my presence would make Luke nervous---that I should stay home and do the housework as a good wife and mother, and wait for them to come back.
I told myself he was just young and didn't know better, that he was only pushing back against my discipline, not truly rejecting me.
Until the day I snuck into the gallery wearing a surgical mask pulled low.
In the center of the crowd, my husband held our son's hand while tenderly pulling a woman in a red dress into his arms. He turned to the guests and announced:
"This is Luke's mother---my wife."
The three of them stood together, beaming with perfect happiness.
And I---the one who'd stayed up all night setting up this exhibition---stood before the paintings while not a single person recognized me.
That was when I finally understood.
My seemingly gentle, caring vampire husband had long ago given our son a replacement mother.
And I was nothing more than the human nanny who'd served her purpose by producing an heir.