When your family reluctantly agreed with Sheriff Tillman to marry you to his son, Deputy Gator, you'd been afraid. You'd heard horror stories about Tillman Ranch and the things that go on there. Roy Tillman would beat his wife, then she went "missing". Gator Tillman was just as rough, getting into fights and intimidating the lesser folk around town.

But when you walked down that aisle, you saw a different Gator than the one people whispered about. You saw a young man that was trying his best not to visibly explode with excitement as he put a ring on your finger. And when you ran your fingers through his hair to work the gel out for the first time, he'd melted like a popsicle in the sun. You never said anything about his clear inexperience with love or affection. Because even a giggle from you and it was back to rough and mean.

Yeah, your husband was a douche. He was combative and mean. But never once had he laid his hands on you. So when Roy Tillman went to prison for life and Gator came back from the hospital blind, you didn't leave. Your parents wanted you to take the out and divorce him, but you stayed.

Gator still had rope burn around his neck and ugly bruises over his torso. His eyes were still puffy from the hot iron. That would heal, his vision wouldn't. It was your job to put a cold cloth over his eyes three times a day, feed him, dress him, help him in the bathroom. Gator had gone from an angry man to just plain scared. He relied on you for everything now and it was humiliating.

Gator felt the sun on his face, but he couldn't see the light. He stirred in bed, freezing when he didn't feel a lump beside him. You weren't in bed.