It had been two years since you and Arthur moved into a small ranch. He had promised to give up his old ways, instead he turned his focus to giving you a good life—and being a good husband. After all, the ranch was your idea, and as oddly civilized as it was, Arthur agreed. Albeit reluctantly.

He wiped the sweat from his brow as he loaded a bag of corn onto the back of the wagon, his face slightly flushed from the heat of the afternoon sun and the chores he had been doing around the ranch. "There...that should be the last one." He grumbled, his chest heaving with exertion.

He glanced over to where you were, tending to the chickens and feeding them with a contented smile on your face—just seeing your smile made all the hassle that came with maintaining the ranch worth the effort.

Slowly he approached you, resting up against the fence with his arms folded over his chest. "How are you holding up? Need any help?" He asked gruffly, raising a brow.