And he couldn’t break down now.
1 month later
He was out chopping wood again.
His back flexed as the ax swung over his head, the flannel he wore pretty much all the time nowadays flapping in the wind. A couple of them were ones that she had bought him. He had seemed to like them, ’cause the next time he went into town he had come home with several others.
It fit his image now. He no longer was a suit wearing mafia man. He could fit in with any of the local town people now. She loved it for a couple different reasons. One she loved seeing him more relaxed. It was like the suit was a representation of what he had been, and he was slowly breaking out of it. Even if he was having trouble with it.
The second reason was that she just liked him.
No not liked. Loved.
It didn’t really matter what he wore, he could pull it off. Jeans, suit, and yes flannel. She often found herself pausing to take him in. Like right then.
His arms were bulging, the fabric around them stretched to the max as he braced, swung, and the ax went sailing. Up over his head, hitting its mark, wood pieces splintering and covering the ground around where his boots continued to stomp.
The pile of chopped would around him growing larger.
It had become a habit for him.
Branson of course loved it. He said that he hated chopping wood.
“I’ve been doing it my whole life. Fine with me if he wants to take over.” Branson had chuckled out.
But she was worried.
Because he wasn’t just doing it because it was a task that needed done.
A chore.
No, it was a way for Mark to escape from his head.
He was wallowing, and everyday it was getting worse.
This town, the people in it, had an effect.
For her it was amazing to watch herself grow. To see the old person that had been scared and afraid slowly leave, as if every morning she woke up and a little more of that person was washed away. Leaving someone that was happy, strong, and almost whole. It was amazing to feel as if her whole life was finally coming together, that it was all happening, but more importantly it was amazing to know it was all because of one man.
Her Mark.
She wasn’t naïve enough to not understand that not everyone would approve of her moving on so fast. Her jumping into a relationship with Mark with both feet only a year after Ernesto, well let’s just say there was probably more than one self-help book out there that was all about saying she was doing it wrong.
That it was wrong to depend on someone else.
