God of Milfs: The Gods Request Me To Make a Milf Harem

June exhaled slowly, fingers unconsciously brushing the fabric of her skirt as though she could still feel that scar beneath. Her voice was quiet, heavy, but laced with a strange softness.

"Normally…" She began, eyes distant. "When people see my leg, there are only two reactions."

"Either they look away, quick, sharp, like it's too ugly to even look at...or worse, they stare with pity. That look, that sympathy in their eyes, like I was something fragile, broken, someone to be pitied and handled with care."

"...That's been my whole life, Olivia. Always those two reactions."

She gave a faint, bitter laugh, though it dissolved quickly. Then, with a sudden warmth breaking through, she added,

"But Kafka...he was different."

Her gaze lifted, finding Olivia's eyes with quiet weight.

"He didn't look away. He didn't give me that hollow sympathy. Instead…"

She paused, and a soft, almost disbelieving smile curved her lips.

"...He cried."

Olivia blinked, her mouth parting in shock.

"Wait, he...cried? As in, actual tears?"

She leaned forward with an incredulous look on her face.

"Kafi cried? That same Kafi who always seems so unshakable, so...dominant? You mean, real tears down his face?"

"Yes. Exactly that. I couldn't believe it either." June chuckled, nodding slowly, her eyes shimmering with the memory. "I thought he was the type of man who would never cry, no matter the situation. Someone who'd rather swallow glass than shed a tear in front of someone else."

"...But in that moment...I was utterly stunned. Because right there, in front of me, he cried."

Olivia gasped softly, shaking her head as if she couldn't quite picture it.

June's hand then drifted to her leg again, caressing it absently as though replaying the moment.

"And the most shocking thing wasn't even that he cried, it was why. He looked at me, Olivia, and between his tears he said...'It must have hurt so much. Back then, you must have been just a little girl. A little girl in that kind of pain...how much it must have hurt you.'"

Her voice trembled slightly, but there was a light in her expression, a glow that softened every edge of her face.

"He wasn't crying for me now. He was crying for that child I once was. The little girl who suffered, who endured burns so deep they scarred more than just my skin. He wept because he imagined her pain, her fear, her loneliness."

Olivia's throat tightened; she didn't know what to say, her eyes wide and glossy with awe.

"And you know, Olivia, in this world...it's rare enough to find someone who shows even basic empathy anymore." June laughed again, this time softer, gentler. "Especially men. So many of them don't see women as equals, don't care for our struggles at all."

"But here he was, this man, this smooth-talking, cocky, teasing young man, and all he could do was cry for me. For my suffering. For something no one else had ever thought to mourn on my behalf."

Her tone slowed, tender, each word full of weight.

"And in that moment, Olivia, it felt like a burden I'd carried my entire life was finally lifted. Like someone saw me, not the scar, not the disability, not the pity or the disgust, but me. And he held that pain as if it mattered to him."

She smiled faintly, her eyes misty with memory.

"It was a kindness no one had ever given me before. And it made me feel something I'd never felt. Like I was cherished...even loved. All from just that one, genuine reaction."

As Olivia listened, she felt her own heart tighten. It wasn't just gratitude reflected in June's eyes now, it was something fonder, warmer.

A gaze steeped in memory, in attachment.

A gaze that betrayed how deeply that single moment had etched itself into June's heart, how it had tied her to Kafka in a way words couldn't easily untangle.

June didn't notice the flicker of unease crossing Olivia's face; she was far too lost in the thread of memory. Her eyes were bright, almost sparkling, as she leaned back against the sofa, hands resting gently on her lap.

"You know…" She began softly. "...from that moment on, after he cried for me, I felt closer to Kafka than I had ever felt to anyone in my entire life. It was like..." She paused, trying to find the words. "...like he had cracked something open in me that I thought was sealed forever. And since then, I couldn't help but treat him as someone precious. My dearest friend."

She chuckled lightly, the sound warm but tinged with irony.

"And sometimes, honestly...almost like a little brother. With the age gap, it only made sense. I thought I should coddle him, cherish him, return even a fraction of the kindness he had shown me."

Olivia tilted her head slightly, watching her with quiet curiosity.

"But you know what happened instead?" June's smile turned wry, almost self-mocking. "It wasn't me who ended up coddling him. It was him."

"He's the one who kept saving me, again and again. Lifting me up. Reminding me of my worth when I forgot it."

"...He made my life brighter in ways I didn't think possible."

Olivia leaned forward, her brows knitting as she asked gently. "How? What did he do...for you to feel that way?"

June inhaled, leaning back against the sofa as if weighing where to even begin.

"Ah...there's too much, really. I can't recount it all. But…" She lifted one finger. "For one, he never stopped complimenting me. Always pestering me, telling me how pretty I looked, how strong I was. I used to push him away, thinking it was just meaningless flattery."

"But little by little...it sunk in. I stopped bowing my head at mirrors. I walked taller. I actually believed him."

Olivia's lips parted in surprise, her eyes softening as she imagined it.

"And then..." June continued, a fond look tugging at her face. "When this shop was in trouble, when they wanted to replace me with another tenant, I thought I'd lose everything I had built...But somehow, he handled it."

"I don't know what he said to the landlord, but after one single visit from him, the whole issue vanished. Just like that. He settled it in a matter of seconds, like it was nothing."

Olivia blinked, stunned. "Kafi...did that?"

"Yes." June gave a little laugh. "And another time, when I complained offhandedly about sales being bad, I thought he'd just tease me or nod."

"But instead...he organized a fashion party right here. Invited women from all over town. Showcased my designs. And it was such a success, the store was overflowing with people, I could hardly believe it."

"...It was like he'd handed me a second chance."

"Oh, and let me you this." She added with a teasing smile on her face. " He's quite popular in town. One word from him, and half the older ladies practically stormed my store. You can imagine the chaos."

Olivia's cheeks warmed. She already knew how popular he was with women, but hearing this only confirmed it further.

"But the thing he helped me with the most...was my marriage."

June suddenly said with a wistful look on her face to which Olivia's expression shifted to one of intent focus.

"With my husband...it wasn't going well." She said with a lonely look in her eyes. "Like I told you. It was in shambles. Kafka, he told me outright to just leave him, to find someone better. He said I deserved more. But I...I wasn't ready then. My self-esteem was still too low. I thought I had to try again, to rekindle what was left."

Her fingers twisted slightly in her lap.

"So I asked Kafka for help with my relationship."

Olivia's voice dropped. "And...did he?"

"Yes. Against his own judgment, he still helped me. He taught me how to make a man fall for her, how to rekindle romance. He even set up a date for me and my husband. Planned every detail. He wanted me to have a fresh start."

"So...did it work?" Olivia's breath caught. "Did you two...get back together?"

But June only shook her head, her lips curving into a sad, ironic smile.

"No. The exact opposite happened."

"...The night of the date, I waited...and waited. He never came..."

"...Later, I found out he was with another woman."

Olivia gasped, her hand rising to cover her lips.

"That's...horrible." She whispered, her voice trembling with sympathy. "You must have been so hurt, June...to wait like that, only to find out he was with someone else."

But to her surprise, June shook her head, her expression calm, almost serene.

"Oh, not at all." She said with a small smile. "Please don't worry about me. In the end, it turned out to be the best case scenario for me."

Olivia blinked in confusion. "The...best case scenario?"

"Yes." June said, a faint laugh slipping through as if the memory itself still baffled her. "Because after Kafka found out what had happened, since I told him everything, he didn't show it on his face at all. Not then...But I could see it."

"He was furious. Absolutely furious. He just walked away without saying a single word. I didn't know what he planned to do...and to be honest, I thought maybe he would just let it go. But the very next day…"

She leaned forward, her eyes bright with the memory.

"The very next day, to my shock, I saw my husband, my proud, arrogant husband, prostrating on the floor before me, clutching my leg, crying, begging."

"Begging me to forgive him, swearing that from that day forward he'd love me with every fiber of his being. That he'd be my perfect servant. That he'd do anything I asked."

Olivia's eyes widened, her mouth parting in disbelief.

"What, what?! He...He begged you? He cried like that? But...how? What did Kafi do to him?"

June slowly shook her head, still smiling with that same baffled fondness.

"I don't know. That's the truth...He looked perfectly fine. No bruises, no punch marks, nothing. So it wasn't as though Kafka had beaten him into submission."

"But somehow...somehow he broke him. Made him cry at my feet. To this day, I don't know what words he used, or how he did it. But whatever it was...it worked."

Olivia shivered, stunned at the thought. Kafka, her son, the smooth-tongued charmer who teased his mother endlessly, had reduced another man to tears and begging without even lifting a hand, making her realise that there was so much to him that she didn't know...