Aileen knew she was in trouble as soon as she saw Bill appear through the crowd. She half-heartedly tried to hide her face and sneak away, but she had already accepted her fate.
"Emily, darling," the butcher's voice rang out like the sharpening of an axe.
"Why, Bill!" Aileen said sweetly, "I didn't look to see you here!"
"No," the butcher said, "Nor I you."
He stood before her, sizing her up with a stony gaze.
"The docks are no place for a lady of your station, Mrs. Cutting," he said with an almost imperceptible growl, "I suggest you get home before you breathe in too much Irish immigrant filth."
Aileen nodded and kissed him on the cheek before she left, hoping it would soften his mood before he came home.
It was evening before the door to the apartment opened and closed threateningly. Aileen began to shake before she even saw the butcher. She tried to hide it as she turned to face him.
She stood near the window while he stopped in the middle of the room and stared at her. He sucked on his teeth and raised an eyebrow at the young woman.
"You can't hide nothing from me, Emily," he said finally, "I'm your husband, I know you. And I know who you were looking for."
Aileen blinked but said nothing. He took another step toward her and she awaited his strike. But he didn't raise his hand. His glass eye shone in the evening light.
"Have I been...unkind to you, Emily?" he asked finally.
"No, Bill," Aileen said quietly.
"Have I ever left you cold or hungry?" the butcher asked.
"No, sir," his wife replied.
"Then why do you insist on trying to escape?" he asked, "What reason have I ever given you to leave me?"
Aileen hung her head. "None, sir. You've only ever been a good man and a good husband to me."
The butcher lifted her chin. "There is nothing left of that old life you're trying to return to."
Tears formed in the young woman's eyes.
To her surprise, Bill weaved his rough fingers into her hair and kissed her. He moved from her lips to her neck and back before stopping and asking in a low and husky voice, "Who are you?"
He kissed her neck again as she gasped, "Emily Cutting. Your wife."
The butcher chuckled and Emily wrapped her arms around him as he lifted her up and carried her away.