Charming smiled at his beloved Cinderella and said, "I love you, Ella." She nodded, but didn't answer—how could he love her? She was stupid, clumsy, a fool, useless, annoying, ugly, shouldn't have even been born, couldn't do anything right, lazy, boring, moody, couldn't go anywhere, had the worst attention span and was terrible at singing and dancing—did she have any good traits, Cinderella wondered to herself. Well, she was good with animals she thought quietly to herself—he deserved so much better than her—or at least that was she thought.
He smiled and they went away on their honeymoon. They arrived and he said, "I'll give you a tour, dear." She flinched, remembering how Stepmother would call her that—when she was talking down to the teen.
He froze and asked, "Ella? Ella, what's wrong?"
She took a deep breath and said, "Please—don't call me that."
He frowned and asked, "Call you what, dear?"
She flinched again and said, "That."
He led his wife inside and turned back to her and asked, "Why?"
She looked at him and said, "Stepmother would call me that—when she was talking down to me or scolding me or giving me my chores for the day."
He scowled and said, "Cinderella. Ella—I promise—no, I swear I will never talk down to you."
She nodded gratefully. Charming let her go get cleaned up and then sighed—what other problems would they run into?