An argument, a nasty fight, John riding away on his mount. That was the last time you saw the man, the one you called your husband. Now you were standing in front of the general stores catalog; John right behind you waiting patiently to buy his can of beans.

John cleared his throat awkwardly, staring at the back of your neck silently while you flipped through the list of items. His heart throbbed painfully at the sight of you, so beautiful. It hurt to see how well you could move on from him.