𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚅𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊

𝙱𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚅𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚝

⚠︎︎
1984
Colorado
Word Count: 6.5k

It was a cool September day in Colorado. A gentle fog cloaked the mountains, adding a mystical touch to the landscape. You sat in the cozy library of the ranch, curled up with a book, your feet tucked beneath you, the warm glow of the fireplace crackling nearby.

This ranch was your and Michael's little haven while he toured with his brothers. Despite the idyllic setting, it wasn't a true escape from the relentless arguments that plagued your nights. The screaming matches would often end with Michael storming out to sleep in the guest house, or worse, making you scream his name in frustration. Lately, though, a chilling silence had settled over your relationship. Nights in bed were quiet and distant, with neither of you making any effort to bridge the growing chasm.

Despite the tension, you both still loved each other deeply. You knew something had to change before you lost him for good.

As you read, the door creaked open. You glanced up to see Michael standing there, leaning against the doorframe with his cowboy hat in his hands. He stared at it for a moment before placing it on his head and looking at you. "I'm going out," he said.

You shrugged, "Okay, be safe," and returned to your book, turning the page.

"You're not coming with me?" he asked.

You shook your head. "No."

Michael sighed deeply, his gaze fixed on the hardwood floor. "I thought you wanted to go riding the horses around the ranch?"

You looked back up at him. "Is that what you're about to do?"

He nodded.

You closed your book and set it on the side table. "Okay, let me go change then," you said as you stood up. Michael's eyes followed your every movement, tracing the curves outlined by your silk nightgown. Your eyes met his as you walked up to him, the scent of his cologne filling your nostrils.

"Hurry up," he muttered.

You rolled your eyes. "Shut the hell up," you replied, brushing past him and heading down the hallway to change.

In the bedroom, the aftermath of one of your arguments was still evident, with shards of glass scattered across the hardwood floor. The fight had stemmed from Michael's lack of affection over the past three months, and when others showed you attention, his jealousy would flare. The accusations of infidelity had culminated in that broken glass.

You sighed deeply and rummaged through your luggage, pulling out a blue jean jacket, black jeans, and your cowboy hat. After changing, you took a moment to adjust your hat in the mirror, then left the room, heading back down the long hallway. Michael was waiting by the front door, holding your coat.