My Husband’s Favorite Parrot Loved Him More Than Me Chapter 04

My Husband’s Favorite Parrot Loved Him More Than Me Chapter 04

That afternoon, Derek came out of his office holding his phone.

“Tessa, I checked with that friend again. He said the bird’s previous owner was an old lady.”

“Old ladies talk trash all day. The bird just picked it up.”

“Oh.” I flipped through a magazine on the couch. Didn’t look up.

“He said it’ll get better in a while. Just talk to him nicely. He’ll learn.”

“Okay.”

Derek stood there for a moment, then added, “Don’t keep ignoring him. The more you ignore him, the more he says that nasty stuff. Just talk to him.”

I put down the magazine and looked at him.

“Babe, you want me to have a conversation with a bird that curses me out?”

“He’s just a bird,” he said, annoyance creeping into his voice. “He doesn’t even know what it means. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?”

“I’m not making a big deal.”

“Then why won’t you talk to him?”

I opened my mouth, then closed it.

In my past life, every argument ended the same way—with me going silent.

Because I loved him. I didn’t want to upset him.

I thought if I just held on a little longer, everything would get better.

Instead, I held on until I died.

“Fine.” I stood up. “I’ll talk to him.”

I walked to the coffee table, crouched down, and got eye level with the parrot in the cage.

“Crystal,” I called.

He tilted his head and looked at me.

“Say something nice.”

He opened his beak.

“Ugly.”

“Again.”

“Die.”

Derek laughed from the side. “See? He’s talking to you.”

I didn’t laugh.

“Teach me some nice things to say.”

Derek walked over and pulled me aside.

“Say it like this: ‘Crystal, say hi.'”

He faced the cage, his voice so soft it was almost ridiculous.

“Crystal, hi.”

The parrot tilted his head. Ignored him.

“Hi,” Derek said again.

“Hi,” the parrot said.

Derek smiled. “See? Nothing wrong with the bird.”

What he meant was, something was wrong with me.

He didn’t say anything else. Turned and went back to his office.

I stood by the coffee table, watching the parrot in the cage.

He was staring at the office door. Something in his eyes.

Waiting. Watching. Hoping.

Waiting for Derek to come back.

Because the soul inside that body loved him.

After I died in my past life, the two of them ended up together.

I crouched down and tapped lightly on the cage.

The parrot turned his head to look at me.

“Don’t wait,” I whispered. “He’s gone.”

He tilted his head, like he was trying to figure out what those words meant.

I stood up and went back to the bedroom.

Closed the door, leaned against it, and pulled out my phone. Typed into the search bar:

“Parrot behavior correction training.”

The phone rang once, twice.

“Hello, Parrot Prep Academy.”

A man’s voice, crisp and professional.

“Hi. I have an African grey that says some ugly words. ‘Ugly,’ ‘die,’ stuff like that. What methods do you use to correct it?”

“We use a mirror conditioning cage combined with positive reinforcement.”

“A mirror cage has mirrors on all four sides. The parrot experiences a stress response, and we pair that with high-frequency repetition of positive vocabulary. Usually three to five days to overwrite the negative words.”

“Will the mirror cage scare him?”

“Some fear is a normal correction response. Don’t worry—we have professional trainers monitoring the whole time. The bird won’t be harmed.”

I paused for two seconds.

“Okay. I’ll bring him in next Monday. Full-time boarding.”

I hung up, phone in my hand, standing in the dark bedroom.

Wind blew in through the window. The curtain swayed gently.

In my past life, it took six months for that bird to curse me to death, bit by bit.

In this life, I was going to lock her in a cage of mirrors and let her get a good long look at herself.