I've dreamed of the perfect marriage ever since I was a little girl: a marriage complete with a hardworking husband while I tended to the home and our children, preferably four little rugrats to call my own. I dreamed of a life filled with laughter...
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
Everything around me becomes a twisted blur as my eyes zone in on Daniel. I shoot imaginary darts straight at him, hoping they somehow manifest themselves into reality and stab him right in the eyes.
I have always been composed, always poised. I've never allowed my emotions to get the best of me. Ladies, after all, always have their emotions in check.
Isn't that right, mother?
Well, to heck with that and to heck with you!
My anger is fully at the wheel now, and it feels wonderful! I plan on running over my jerk of a husband just to back right on over him.
Then, I'll do it again for funsies . . .
And again.
And again . . .
. . . and again for good measure.
I pity anyone who gets in my way. Today is the day Daniel Michael Montgomery goes down and I'm going to be the one to do it.
Whoosh!
The wind is knocked out of me.
Lucy's arm holds me back. Why on earth is she trying to save this man from my wrath? I've earned this wrath! My eyes flick in her direction ready to tell her to let me go. Prison time can't possibly be worse than the four wasted years I've spent with this man! I'm about to tell her just that when her expression stops me. I'm shocked when I find she has tears in her eyes and . . .
. . . a smile?
"Well, would ya look at that," she says.
My eyebrows furrow in confusion. I follow her gaze, seeing Huck standing at the fence with a wobbly smile as well.
Why is everyone smiling, and, more importantly, why is no one killing Daniel? My eyes flick back toward Daniel.
A shocked gasp erupts from the deepest depths of my belly when I fully register the scene playing out in front of me: Daniel stands in Pigsley's pen holding a stick, but he isn't pointing it at Pigsley. . .not exactly anyway. The stick he's holding is actually a wooden rod. It's connected to a wooden contraption that Daniel must have built himself. The rod is at least four feet in length, and duct taped to the opposite end of it, hovering right above Pigsley's back, is a fluffy, pink house duster.
But, that's not what takes my breath away.
Pigsley's little dance does. His snout is pointed toward the sky, making the happiest grunt-squeals, as his back feet move in a way that allows the duster to gently brush over the gnarled and tightly stretched flesh of his back. Slowly, Penny, Lucy, and I approach the fence. All of us are too stunned by Pigsley's reaction to speak. Tears burn my eyes, but I fight their release.
"Is he?" I ask in a whisper.
With a choke, Lucy says, "He sure is, dear."
Huck opens the gate and enters the Pen, walking right up to Daniel. He has a watery smile, and it makes holding back my tears impossible.
"May I, son?" Huck asks, holding his hand out.
Daniel offers a gentle nod before handing the handle over to Huck. "I built it so you can move it a few inches to the left and right, but it can't move up or down, so it won't put any pressure on his back. He seems to like scratching his own back with it, though."
My eyes move to Pigsley as he continues to switch his weight from one back foot to the other. He's indeed scratching his own back.
"Well, I'll be," Huck whispers with a teary laugh. "Seems Daniel here broke through our hardened Pigsley's exterior."
No one speaks as we watch Huck. I've never seen a man so happy. After several minutes, he hands the handle back to Daniel.
"Thank you, Daniel," Huck says before quickly exiting the pen, wiping away a few stray tears. A look of determination sets over his face.
"What ya thinkin', Huck?" Lucy asks.
"If Pigsley likes dusters, then we're gonna find him the best duster the world has to offer. We need to try feather, microfiber, synthetic...in every shape and size." He offers a single nod as his eyes squint in thought. "I think I'm gonna get some of those feather boas, too. In every kind of feather available. Do ya think he has a favorite color?"
He stomps away, heading straight toward the cabin.
"I better go and stop him from bankrupting us for house dusters," she says, squeezing my shoulder and offering me a kind smile. "Daniel did good today. He showed up today." Her hand drops from my shoulder. "Come on, Penny. It's gonna take both of us to convince that husband of mine not to buy out the entire Amazon."
Penny smiles at me with a quick wink. She mouths the words, "Good luck," before following Lucy, leaving me with my husband; my failing marriage; and an overjoyed, dancing pig with a newly discovered love for house dusters.
What happened?
Just a minute ago, I was about to commit murder. I wanted to commit murder. Murder was easy. But, now? I don't know what I want.
Breathe.
My eyes stay on Daniel as he pushes his contraption to the side of the pen. Pigsley huffs in disappointment before walking toward the corner of the pen and plopping into a mud pool with a wheezing, satisfied grunt.
Daniel exits the pen, pulling his work gloves from his hands and tucking them into the back of his jeans. My eyes scan his every move. I can count on one hand the number of times I've seen Daniel dressed in anything but an expensive, tailor-made suit and a clean-shaven face. Right now, though, he's wearing dark work jeans and a flannel shirt. It looks like he hasn't shaven in at least two days. My entire body erupts in sparks. He looks incredibly handsome. The rugged, farm-boy look suits him. Don't get me wrong, Daniel is and always has been a handsome man. He can wear a suit better than most men. But, seeing him like this makes my stomach twirl in a way it's never twirled before . . .
. . . and I can't have that.
He's not mine. He's never been mine.
Tears return at that reminder, but I won't let him see them--I can't afford to let him see them--so I look down at the ground.
His heavy steps approach me and I see the tops of his work boots.
Breathe.
Regardless of what's happened between us, he did something great today--something wonderful for the people who opened their home to me and showed me nothing but kindness. So, with a deep breath, I say, "Thank you, Daniel. W-what you did for Pigsley meant so much to Huck and Lucy--"
He pinches my chin and lifts my face so that I'm forced to look directly at him. Two traitorous tears fall down my cheeks. His eyes follow their movement down my face.
"I didn't do it for them, Lottie. I did it for you...because you're wrong. Pigsley isn't unwanted and neither are you." His warm caramel eyes stare into mine with so much emotion it makes me uncomfortable. He's always been so calculated and stoic...so distant. That's the Daniel I know what to do with. I don't know what to do with this man with the hurricane behind his eyes. "I'm sorry, little bird. I know I've hurt you and I understand why you want a divorce. I'll give you one if that's what you want." He drops his hand, and I immediately look away. "I'm staying until the gala is over. We can talk more then. If you still want me to sign the papers, then I will."
He presses a gentle kiss to my temple before walking away.
