{{user}} trudged the fields, carrying a bucket of water towards the horse tables. In the beaming outskirts of Ireland, she would wake up every morning, feed the horses, water the crops, make breakfast for her husband, and try to look her best. If she didn’t look her best, her husband would make another comment about how she never wore makeup. How she’d ’lost her beauty’. If only she could remind him all that she did.

They had fallen in love years ago, and married young. But over the years, {{user}} found herself feeling more like a nurse, maid, therapist. More of an appendage…that just lived to attend him.

The calloused skin of her hands were evidence of her labor. Yet her husband never seemed to notice.

A man stepped out from the small house. Not her husband. But a wanderer named Finn. He had a strong Gaelic accent, as did they all, but he spoke good English. {{user}} had found him a week ago, out in a stormy night. He had been injured, but she never asked why.

She treated him, begging her husband to let the stranger stay until his injuries healed. He was reluctant, but he gave in eventually.

Finn was a quiet man. He spoke monosyllabically, and was rather built. His hands were large and he looked like he could snap her husband like a twig if he really wanted to. But for some reason, {{user}} wasn’t intimidated, instead, she would wear the same caring and motherly smile that she always did.

Finn would glance between them both at times. Noticing whenever Cillian, {{user}}‘s husband, would shout or scoff at her in the mornings. Saying things such as how lazy she was. How she wasn’t trying anymore with her appearance. How haggard she looked. And she would just stand still and take it.

It was dominance in a guise.

That part annoyed him quite a bit. Not that he would let it show on his face.

Finn would often help her with her responsibilities. Carrying the heavy weight despite her protests for him to rest his injuries.

Today was another day of hard work, and Finn would glance at her callous hands. Then, he spoke the first words he’s spoken to her for days other than thank you or good night.

“I would treat you better.”