Chapter 3 Eat More, You're Too Thin
Clara Bennett slipped on a jacket and stepped out into the yard, where she spotted Mason Reed doing his morning workout.
Shirtless, he alternated lifting dumbbells with each hand, his brick-like muscles gleaming in the morning light. He looked like some sun god descended from the heavens. Clara Bennett's cheeks warmed as she softly greeted him, "Up early, huh?"
Mason Reed turned his head, giving her a brief, indifferent glance.
Clara Bennett scanned the small, cluttered yard. Sandbags, boxing gloves, a baseball bat, and dumbbells were strewn about haphazardly. Her stomach tightened. She didn't know if the rumors were true, but it was clear Mason Reed wasn't a stranger to a fight.
What kind of temper did this man have?
She'd heard that folks around Willow Creek could be rough—big on machismo, the type to come home drunk and take it out on their wives.
Clara Bennett bit her lip and took a cautious step forward, her voice barely above a whisper. "Um... have you had breakfast yet?"
"No," he replied curtly, his tone icy. "You make it."
Clara Bennett nodded and scurried back to the kitchen.
She worked quickly, whipping up a pot of oatmeal, frying some egg pancakes, and slicing a plate of cured beef, which she slid in front of Mason Reed.
He looked up, meeting her bright, smiling eyes. Something flickered in his chest. He picked up a piece of beef with his fork and dropped it onto her plate.
Clara Bennett blinked, about to protest, when his low voice cut through. "Eat more. You're too thin."
"Oh..."
She pressed her lips together. There were so many things she wanted to say to Mason Reed. Like how she felt bad about last night—how something so normal for newlyweds had ended up feeling forced and awkward.
Or how she wanted to ask about his plans for their future. They were married now; shouldn't they have some kind of roadmap?
And she still didn't even know what he did for a living, how he kept a roof over their heads...
They needed to get to know each other better.
But as she watched Mason Reed focus silently on his food, she noticed the thick calluses on his knuckles—marks of countless hours pounding a punching bag. Whatever words she'd meant to say stayed lodged in her throat.
Their first meal as a married couple dragged on in quiet tension. Clara Bennett couldn't help feeling a pang of resentment, but this was her life now—there was no turning back.
"By the way, do you have anything going on today?" she asked.
Mason Reed paused, caught off guard. "Why?"
"I need to head into town to return the wedding dress," she said with a small smile.
His gaze faltered. He hadn't been involved in planning the wedding at all—hadn't even known her dress was rented. Most women treated their wedding day like a once-in-a-lifetime event, didn't they? Buying the gown, cherishing it. The thought stirred an odd, unfamiliar feeling in him.
"I'm not asking you to come with me!" Clara Bennett added quickly, seeing his silence. "I can handle returning it myself. If you've got stuff to do, don't worry about me."
"Hm," he grunted, his response as flat as ever.
They treated each other with polite distance, more like roommates than husband and wife.
Clara Bennett washed the wedding dress, folded it neatly, and packed it into a bag. After switching between a few buses, she reached the dress shop in Harrington just before noon.
Aside from the dowry her family had promised verbally, the Bennetts hadn't given her a dime for the wedding.
She'd scoured the streets herself to find this small shop, one with styles and prices she could just about manage.
It wasn't fancy, and the staff had a habit of looking down their noses at customers—especially someone like Clara Bennett, who'd rented her gown instead of buying it.
"Miss, are you sure we can rent this dress out again?" the clerk drawled, her voice dripping with disdain as she inspected it. "Look at the state of it!"