Something short and depressing.

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Two years. It had been two years since Karen and Rick had married and moved in together. The Poultry Farm had been prosperous and successful, and the couple seemed to be happy with eachother. It was the happy, perfect life that Rick had always wanted.

That was what he had been telling himself every day for the past two years. Convincing himself that this was what he had wanted.

Denying that something was very, very wrong with their marriage.

He'd always assumed that he would eventually marry Karen, take over the farm, live a happy life... It was what everyone had expected of him. Inheriting the family business and marrying his child sweetheart, just like everyone else did in this town.

But it wasn't that simple. Was it ever really that simple?

The first mistake had been marrying her to "set things right". Marrying for their unborn child. Marrying so Karen wouldn't have to experience the shame of giving birth an unmarried woman in a town full of old-fashioned folk who would've probably thrown her out of town for doing so. The Summer day when she told him she was pregnant was still fresh in his mind - the memory of hot and humid air hitting his face as he weighed his options, and the apathetic, strangely blank look he received as he pulled the blue feather out of his back pocket, followed by a hesitant "yes".

It was a quick wedding, held the following sunday and filled with empty smiles. And eight months later, Karen had given birth to a baby girl.

He loved his daughter, even if she looked nothing like him, with dark chestnut hair and equally dark eyes, the same characteristics a certain farmer shared. But he hadn't taken the time to consider Karen might've been unfaithful. Had he really been in denial that long?

He had finally realized it when Karen told him "We need to talk"; when they sat down at the dinner table on a fateful Summer day, just like that day two years ago; when she uttered the same words he had heard on that day so long ago.

"I'm pregnant."

It had dawned on him quite suddenly, and he vaguely felt as if he'd been hit by a truck, as well as feeling strangely numb and empty.

"We haven't slept together in three years," he uttered, slowly and coldly, picking his words carefully. It was a simple statement of 'Yes, I know you've been cheating on me since before we got married." It didn't take much to figure out that the baby wasn't his. That their daughter wasn't his. That the child wasn't just some "gift from the goddess" that had magically appeared in her womb. How could he have believed that excuse for a second?

Karen seemed to shift uncomfortably. "There's a ship going to the mainland tonight."

There was an awkward silence. Rick turned away and shook his head lightly.

"I'll be on it, Rick. I can't do this anymore."

He said nothing - he merely stood up, slowly removing the wedding band from his finger and placing it on the table in front of her. The only thoughts running through his head were, "How could she do this? How can she take all we have and throw it away?"

Not a word was said as he left. He was too busy reflecting over all that had happened. Popuri barely said a word to him anymore, focusing only on her part-time job at the beach shack. Lillia had passed years ago, never knowing her granddaughter. There was nothng left anymore.

He saw Karen off that night, with betrayal in his eyes.

His sister found him on the beach the next day, motionless, with water in his lungs and a broken heart.