When she punched him in the face, it wasn't just for his chickens getting sick.
Katie had told her first – and where Katie tread, the gossip mill turned – and soon practically the whole village knew.
Everyone, except for Lyla.
Gwen vented her frustration in a multitude of ways: she yelled and she screamed at the farmer, worked until she ached, and planted until she couldn't feel her fingers.
They were in their late teens when Gwen promised Lyla that she'd beat up any boy who dared to break her heart. She'd known that, if she didn't do it, Lyla wouldn't have bothered protecting herself. The other woman was just too sweet to ever confront anyone about her feelings. Lyla had just smiled in return, offering to bandage the wounds Gwen would get for her trouble.
But could Lyla bandage Gwen's own heart?
The farmer had been seen cavorting with the entire village's female folk, including herself. Not that Gwen had been taken in by his gifts and honey-sweet words – she was, after all, above that kind of thing. Not to mention, his constant desire to talk to her got a little annoying.
So, she just hurt for her friend. Though the farmer had eventually lost interest in her, he'd redirected a lot of his attention to Lyla. Gwen had simply thought that he'd stopped flirting with all the other girls when that happened.
The carpenter had seen how the older woman had wilted when she had been rejected by Basil. Given how serious her feelings were for the new man, Gwen couldn't help but suspect the fallout would be worse than her previous crush.
When she found out, the truth of his philandering would probably destroy her.
Yet, despite knowing that, here the honest carpenter stood, across from the counter waiting for her voice to be heard.
Lyla was attending to the gaggle of flowers that she kept beyond the reach of the village's inhabitants. The woman's pink hair shimmered in the dim light of late afternoon, when it was too early to start turning indoor lights on. She started when she saw her blond-haired friend, though the scare seemed to quickly turn to gentle delight.
"Hello Gwen," the flower-girl put her watering pail down. "You're here early. I thought that I was only going to see you after dinner, what with your riding session and all."
Gwen nodded softly in reply, trying to think of how best to phrase what she needed to say. Lyla deserved to hear it from a friend – thankfully being too far removed from the gossip circuit – rather than be trampled by 'outside' information.
She deserved to hear that she had been lied to by her significant other about 'dating exclusively.'
Yet, Gwen couldn't will herself to speak.
The skin between Lyla's eyes scrunched, with a tiny frown down-turning the corner of her lips. The gentle smell of lilac wafted through the air, dulling Gwen's senses. As Lyla's favorite flora, the smell was ever-present in her home and on her person. That somehow made things more difficult. How could you say something so sad to someone so delicate? She breathed the smell in deeply, trying to gather her courage for the challenge that confronted her.
"Is everything alright?"
Gwen's breath caught, the words stuck in her throat. It was as if the pollen in the air was chocking her, making it difficult to breath.
"It's nothing, Lyla. Don't worry about it."
Deflated and defeated, Gwen threw herself into a nearby seat. None too perturbed by the usual tired girl's behavior, Lyla returned to her previous task. The hot-head couldn't help but stare helplessly at her back.
What kind of friend couldn't tell you the truth?
Not a good one, that's for sure.