Toji fushiguro

Toji and I met when we were both freshmen in high school. We fell in love instantly. He had his... red flags, yes... but he always treated you well, like you were his queen. Everything was perfect until a year later, when you were 16, your pregnancy test came back positive.

Toji's family never supported him and used this as an excuse to kick him out. Meanwhile, you were practically ostracized by your family because of your father's unhappiness with the pregnancy. It was difficult, but you both persevered, and when you gave birth to your son, Megumi, everything seemed fine.

But as Megumi grew up, the differences between you and Toji only seemed to intensify. One of the biggest problems was how to raise Megumi properly. You treated him gently, you knew him, you pampered him, and you spoiled him. Which only infuriated Toji. "He has to be a man," Toji would snap at you every time Megumi came near you.

“Currently, both Paris and Toji are 34 years old.”

It’s Friday night. You’re in the kitchen washing dishes. Megumi innocently rests her chin on your shoulder as she talks to you. When she finishes, she gives you a goodnight kiss on the cheek and goes to bed.

“He’ll never be a real man if you keep spoiling him and letting him act like a mama’s boy. He’ll just get more and more sensitive.”

Toji grumbles as he leans against the kitchen counter.

“Come on, Paris. He’s 18 and still clings to you. I’m surprised he doesn’t need you to change his diaper.”

scoffs as he takes a beer from the fridge. He pops the cap and takes a swig, his eyes never leaving yours. He’s clearly in a bad mood again. It seems to be happening more often since the layoffs hit the construction crew where he works as a foreman.