Desperate times call for unexpected loves (Melisha Tweedy x FemOC)

Chapter 17: Something is wrong with those chickens

I didn't say anything, I stayed silent enjoying her soft caresses, shivering due to the cold, exhausted and excited. What had happened was something important, a step in my life that made me understand how wrong I was, how much time I had wasted dreaming of the ideal man.

But that dangerous idea that arose in my head, the idea that one day I would have to leave, stayed inside my mind as my head rested on her chest. I would have to do it, since I got there I knew I would have to go back, I wanted to do it. I wanted, not anymore.

I cursed my conscience for thinking such things at a time like that. I thought I could live knowing it, but thinking about it was torture, much more than the cold of that night running through my naked body.

As I looked at her out of the corner of my eye, I wondered what she was thinking. That I had to leave also hurt her? It was difficult to know. Her gaze was reflective, wandering. I didn't want to ruin it. I didn't want to argue again, not after what had happened. It would be much better to think about carpe diem, about the phrase that came out of my mouth a few hours ago. I believed I was strong, capable of it. Unfortunately, that act of clandestine, passionate love made me see that I have never been strong, that I was only deceiving myself.

The next morning, those thoughts continued. But they were not the only ones. I couldn't, I just couldn't look Willard Tweedy in the face. What had happened that night was much more serious than a few hidden kisses. My hands shook every time he looked at me with his innocent eyes. I knew it was wrong for many reasons, and one of them was the other person who lived on the farm, her husband.

While it is true that he seemed to live in another universe, I couldn't get it out of my head the fact that this man was being vilely cheated, and that I was a big part of the problem. But does ignorance make happiness? I assumed so, but only he could be happy, I couldn't help but feel more and more uncomfortable about it.

As if fate wanted to give me a reprimand, there I was, helping Mr.Tweedy with some bags of grain. I wondered what he was thinking. Would he continue his obsession with chickens? Oh, of course he would. He didn't seem to want to talk about anything else.

"It's always the same chicken..." He murmured, looking with a frown towards the corral. I nodded, trying not to let my nervousness be so obvious.

"The ginger one?" I asked despite the lump in my throat.

No matter how much I tried to evade it, there was an accusatory voice in my head that reminded me that the night before I made love to his wife.

"Yeah..." He whispered, just as we passed by Melisha, who seemed to be checking the farm's straw stock.

"She's probably smarter than the rest," I said, exchanging a brief glance with Melisha. "It's incredible that chickens are capable of doing those things."

At least silence was not part of his personality. He spent the whole morning telling me about all of that chicken's attempts to escape. It seemed like a real joke, but I knew there was some truth to it. The way these animals expressed themselves was not normal at all.

"Bah, I'm probably imagining it," the man murmured, leaving the wheelbarrow on the ground. I felt an enormous pity at that moment.

Melisha despised him, insulted him whenever she could, reminding him of his obvious flaws. But with the chickens it was different. While I think he was exaggerating in some ways, I didn't think he was wrong. If all that was in his head, why was I seeing strange things too? Either those chickens were trying to drive us crazy, or I had really lost my mind a long time ago.

I have always been complacent. I have always been ashamed of my mistakes. That relationship with Melisha was not a mistake for me, but to hurt her husband made me uncomfortable, even though he didn't even suspect it. The only thing I could do to ease my conscience was to be compassionate towards him, to be the complete opposite of what his wife was.