What Love Looks Like

"You are my wife." Every time he wanted to reassure her, Kevin would give Karen this same answer. It was a simple sentence, but it contained deep affection. Karen was his wife, so, of course, he wanted to give the best to her, otherwise, would he want other men to be nice to her and care for her instead? Of course not! He should be the one to protect his wife and to bring her happiness. He needed to pamper her so much that she would not care for anyone else. "Of course I know that I am your wife." Karen knew what Kevin was thinking. She snuggled up in his arms and said, "Mr. Kyle, thank you!" She thanked him for giving in to her, thanked him for spoiling her, thanked him for supporting her, thanked him for loving her, and thanked him for giving her a complete and happy home. "Are you confused again?" Kevin lowered his head and bit her playfully. He punished her for thanking him again. In his perception, loving her was his duty. These were his obligations, and she need not thank him at