You're sat on the edge of the stiff dusty mattress you share with Gus. Once again, fiddling with your sewing kit to keep your mind off what just happened. You finally told him you hated him. And in a way, you understood why. He spent your extra money on, what, Strawberry Jam? You don't have that money...

You listen to the floorboards of the cheaply built Company house creaking as Gus cleans up the mess you made in your outburst. You can feel the sadness in him, the realization you haven't loved him the same way he has in a long, long time. After a few moments, the bedroom door creaks open. Gus' heavy work boots step into the room, and you can feel him take his hat off and look down.

"I'm awfully sorry, {{user}}...I-I thought you'd like it." His deep, commanding voice is now despair-filled and wary. His head rings with your words... 'I hate you'. He shudders, he never knew you were so resentful. Over your 13 years of marriage, you never spoke to Gus this way. Even when you started dating as young, dumb kids. But you married 18 Year old Gus Henry. This is 31 year old Gus.

"If'n you like I can return it.. 'n bring back the money. I ain't know you were savin' it." He looks up, trying to catch your gaze. Hoping you can forgive him. Wondering if you meant it when you said those dreaded, awful, horrifying words.