"Are you willing to share your woman with other men?" She didn't seem to understand the question at all.
He should have taken her words to heart, for she was a woman with many husbands. Her lack of loyalty to one person was glaringly obvious.
"I'm jealous," he said, his lips trembling. "I don't want to share you with them, but what can I do? It's better than losing you." Of course, he minded; he didn't want to share her with anyone. He longed to be her sole possession, to monopolize her affection.
The jealousy consumed him, making him feel like he was going insane whenever she was with other men. But what could he do? Kill them? No, that would only drive her away. Scold and blame her for being too popular? No, he couldn't bear the thought of causing her even the slightest hurt, whether emotional or physical.
He blamed himself for not being able to win all of her love.
