Author's note: I finally got over my writer's block I've had for years. I hope people like this.

It wasn't that she didn't love her husband. She just didn't love him as much as she had.

When she had moved to Echo Village almost two years ago, Rachel was such in love with the idea of moving to a small village and marrying the guy of her dreams, she found herself in a whirlwind romance with the local hairdresser, and soon she and Allen found themselves at the altar, saying their vows and sealing it with a kiss. 'Will you only think of your beloved?'

After the excitement of the wedding, Rachel found herself trapped in a marriage that was rushed and meaningless. Allen hardly touched her and rarely even complimented her, only sometimes, and even then, cliché phrases she'd heard from her life back in the city.

When the couple found out that they were expecting a baby, Allen emphasized on the importance of having a daughter. Boys were out of the question, and Rachel imagined it stemmed from the lack of Allen's father in his life. But the comments he made on the gender of the baby scared her. "It better be a girl," he'd told her one day. "Or you'll find yourself raising that baby on your own."

Once Phyllis was born, Allen began taking more care to look out for his daughter, than the care he took for his wife.

"Make sure she eats plenty of walnuts and spinach. I want her hair to be long and healthy so I can style it up real pretty."

When Phyllis was older and had a head of hair, he'd practice many different hairstyles with her, and once that time was done, would release her to do whatever she wanted and never bothered to pay attention to her for the rest of the day.

He'd call for her in the morning, and she come sit herself down at one of the kitchen tables, and Allen would bring his styling kit and go to work for a few hours, Phyllis occasionally fidgeting and Allen scowling and lecturing her on how to be a proper lady.

Afterwards, constant calls for her father were made, and Rachel hopelessly watched as Allen would scowl and shoo his daughter away.

Days when Rachel felt lonely and depressed, she'd visit the only friend she'd ever really had in the village, Rod.

Rod was Allen's childhood friend and they still got together more than they ever did. Rachel enjoyed playing with the pets and hearing some of the endless knowledge about them from the excitable orange-haired man. She'd ask him about a particular breed of dog or cat or horse and he'd entertain her with interesting facts and stories he'd learned or experienced.

And over the many times they got together, Rachel started to pay more attention to the young man's lips and body, more so than his stories. And over the many times they got together, she made a move and placed her lips on his. She was never pushed away.

Allen would leave her mind as she would kiss Rod and Rod would kiss her. Soon, Rachel craved more and the sessions moved to his bed, where he pulled the curtains and turned the lights for a bit of privacy.

Rachel was pregnant a second time, no questions asked, and when the boy finally came, Allen blatantly ignored the child. Little Roderick was a restless baby and easily tempered Allen. 'Shut that baby up!' he'd say to his wife while braiding his precious daughter's hair. That was one of the only times that Rachel could remember her husband regarding the boy at all.

Phyllis was now five and had endless energy that annoyed her father to death, to the point he'd lock her out of the house on his 'quiet days'. 'Take the baby, too,' shoving the baby into Rachel's arms those days, and she'd set the baby in a basket and head towards the farm for some afternoon work.

"Here, Phyllis, come help mommy in the fields today." Rachel would usher her daughter to one of the tilled dirt fields and have her "water" the crops growing there. She never did it around her children, but she would let tears fall down her cheeks and throw her hands up at the sky as if it would help her life.

Soon, her visits with Rod were over, as he visited the tiny farm house one chilly afternoon, the wind blowing harshly with hints of the coming winter. The leaves were dropping of the dying branches of the surrounding trees, and the sun's warmth didn't seem to reach the earth.

Allen had opened the door and invited his friend in, who refused the offers of having his coat hung up and grabbing something warm to drink. Instead, he sank into one of the three chairs that sat around the kitchen table, averting his eyes from his friend's wife, staring at his hands until he could finally look up.

"I found some good business in a town a little ways from here. Good town...lots of people that want pets...I'm moving out." There was an audible gasp from Rachel, but she coughed and muttered something about the air being stuffy and feeling faint and moved to open a window. Allen urged his friend to talk more.

"When are you moving?" Rod looked at Allen, but Rachel knew. She knew he was looking past his shoulder towards her.

"Tomorrow." He was answering to her.

"My god, short notice. Glad you're moving from this town anyway. More opportunity. We'll miss you around here." Allen was always bad at words, so Rachel didn't bother him about it.

Rod stood up from the chair and strolled over to give Allen one of his cheeky smiles and a goodbye handshake. He looked towards Rachel.

"Good-bye, please take care Rachel." Dread spread over her body and she felt a heaviness overtake her being. Her one solace. Leaving. She shed a tear and quickly wiped at it. The door shut after him and Allen went on with the task of curling Phyllis's bangs. Roderick let out a small cry and Allen glanced at his wife and made no move to settle the crying child. She didn't either and promptly left the farmhouse and left in the direction of Rod's cottage.

They spent the evening in each other's embrace and she didn't leave for home until the early hours of the blooming new day. The air was still and Rachel felt calm. The wind wasn't blowing and she could feel a little of the sun's rays. She opened the front door to find her husband drinking a cup of tea, staring off into some dark corner of their home.

"Has Rod left yet?" He didn't move his eyes.

"No, but he's leaving soon." She brushed past him and slipped into the bed.

"You were with him."

"I'm tired, let me rest my eyes."

"Goddammit, don't ignore me woman!"

"You'll wake the childr-"

"Screw the children."

Silence.

"Yes. I was with Rod. Does it matter?" Allen drank from his cup and chuckled to himself.

"I guess not."

A year passed slowly by the window that Rachel would find herself gazing out at some distant part of the outside world, being stuck in an endless reverie. Phyllis sometimes wrapped herself in her mother's arms, their two hearts beating, synchronized.

One day, while gazing out at the passing life outside the paned window, Allen walked in, the usual look of indifference scrawled across his face. Rachel robotically rose from the seat and started for the kitchen, ready to make Allen's coffee when he suddenly uttered:

"I'm leaving."

"Do you want your coffee black?"

"Dammit Rachel, I'm leaving you."

Rachel stopped her hands. They were shaking. Why was she shaking? Hadn't she dreamed about this day in the afternoons when she was left to herself and her thoughts? Wasn't she prepared to let him go, smile and shut the door after him. Wasn't she happy that the man she no longer loved was leaving her household, or more significant, her life?

Instead, she found herself wailing and throwing herself into her husband's arms, which pushed her away and scowled, unconcerned of her feelings of abandonment. "I leave in two days."

She was embarrassed and turned from her aloof husband and softly wiped the bitter tears from her cheeks. She was glad the children were napping that afternoon.

Phyllis clung to her mother when Allen gathered whatever belongings were his and shut the door. No one cried or said a word. Roderick lay tired in his mother's arms. He was gone, and somehow, Rachel smiled.

.