Chapter 4

“But what will we do?” Paul asked, imagining a bare, empty home. No furniture, no pans, no candles, nothing.

“I’ll order more at the store,” she said, shrugging.

“Order more? But we can’t afford…”

“Paul, you’re a rich man now. And well, I have my own money. You don’t need to worry about it.”

Paul bit his lip. “Well, if it makes you happy…”

“Does it make you happy living in that house?” Martha asked, touching him again. Why did she always need to touch him? He resisted the urge to push her away, understanding that it would hurt her if he batted her hand like a fly.

“No. No, it doesn’t,” he admitted. “Maybe we should get our own house.”

Martha didn’t answer. Paul knew it was a ridiculous notion. How would he build a new house? He wasn’t accustomed to having real goals, real dreams. She squeezed his hand one more time before releasing him, sauntering to the kitchen door, her hips swinging in such an alluring way…

Paul shook his head, trudging the opposite direction.