All characters in this story are 18 years old or older. Heads up, this will be a shorter chapter. Hopefully I'll be able to write more later. Until then, thanks for reading and enjoy!
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Outside the rain was pouring. It had been a long time since rained this hard. The crops needed it, Darcy thought; but it made for a dreary sort of day for her. She sat quietly, in her husband's armchair gazing out of the glass windowpane. The water droplets were racing each other to the bottom.
Beyond the house, Darcy could see that the sky was filled with dark grey and blue clouds. There was thunder in the distance, but she had not seen any lightning. She waited patiently for it. In a strange way Darcy had always found the lightning both beautiful and frightening. It was odd that something so powerful could be so short-lived. Even more interesting was its unpredictability, no one knew where the lightning would strike.
She heard her husband's voice behind her, muffled under the sound of her own thoughts. She turned around to see him standing just behind her with a cup of tea. The teacup was resting on a delicate saucer. She took ahold of it and resting the drink in her lap, she looked back up at Jesse.
"Drink that. You seem like you're not feeling well." Her husband said kissing her on the forehead.
Darcy sipped the hot liquid. It tasted like vanilla and chamomile. There was a hint of mint in there as well. When she was finished drinking her husband handed her a small book. He told her that he had been saving it as a surprise, and thought that now might be a good time to read.
Grabbing hold of the book, Darcy set her tea on the bookshelf and opened the book. It smelled like new leather. The binding was beautiful, she thought. Her husband laid comfortably on the bed in front of her, looking up at the ceiling.
"Darcy?"
"Yes?"
"I'd prefer if you read aloud." He said, his fingers laced together behind his head.
"Oh," Darcy stated nervously.
She flipped back to the first page of the book and started over. This time she read with more diligence. Her sentences were slow and she stumbled over the words. It felt unnatural to read aloud. The sound of her voice tripping over syllables made her uneasy. She felt foolish, as if her inabilities were on display, as if she were letting her husband down. She wanted to stop. Jesse had worked so hard to help her; yet Darcy continued to stammer like a child over sentences that she would be able to understand perfectly if they'd only been read to her. It made her heart sink.
After a few more pages she closed the book and turned again to the window. The rain was still falling outside. It was loud on the tin roof above. Momentarily, she let herself be distracted from her disappointment. But she could only keep the feelings at bay for so long.
Darcy inwardly chided herself for being so slow to learn. If only her parents had thought it wise to teach her when she was young, she thought. Perhaps then her husband wouldn't have to make up for the deficit on his own. Inside Darcy's heart there was some subdued anger towards her parents. Why had they not thought it important for her to read? Had they doubted her intelligence, she wondered somberly.
Darcy had often wondered why so little was expected of her. Perhaps that was truly all she was capable of. She felt a pang of disappointment and regret at the thought. Darcy had told herself many times that she was not worth very much. She could think of many reasons why she was insignificant. Instead of going down her usual path of self-pity, she was drawn away from those thoughts by her husband's voice.
"How come you stopped reading, Darling?" Jesse said turning to face his wife.
Darcy shrugged silently in response.
"You weren't interested in the story?" He guessed incorrectly.
"It's not that," Darcy said quietly. There was another pause as her husband waited for her to continue. He'd wanted her to work on telling him when she was distressed so that he could try to help her. He stayed silent until she was ready to speak again. He could see that her eyes were filled with disappointment and shame.
"I prefer to not read aloud," she said with an air of finality.
"Well why not? You were doing fine Darcy," he said encouragingly.
She rolled her eyes, not believing a word he said. Of course he would never admit that his wife was dimwitted. There was an edge to her voice, "That's not true at all. Were you even listening?"
Jesse paused for a moment. Then he rose from the bed and walked towards Darcy, a serious expression on his face. He grabbed her jaw roughly, but not painfully, in his hand, forcing Darcy to make eye contact as he spoke.
"Do not roll your eyes at me Darcy," His voice was firm, "Your tone of voice right now is unacceptable. Do you understand me?"
