Gaston came into the house, Belle was quickly preparing dinner. She was already slicing bread into an even mound and straightening a baked ham in the fireplace. She has again become somehow mechanical and inanimate.

Gaston came closer to the girl. He wanted to finish. But the thoughts did not form into phrases in any way, flew away, broke off, dissolved in his head.

She, looking up, perceived his arrival in a completely different way "Wait a moment, dinner is almost ready. Sit down at the table."

The man touched her shoulder, drawing her attention:

"The hell with dinner. Belle.. I... I…"

She looked up at him with her huge eyes, but Gaston caught on to one of the thoughts.

"You once said I am a monster. But I'm not like that. I am a man, your husband," he paused for a moment. "Listen, if you're worried, let your father stay with us."

"For what? Belle asked in surprise, but at the same time she looked more closely at such a beautiful and usually indifferent face of her husband. There was something new in his eyes, blue as the summer sky, serene and insensitive to someone else's pain. So far, only questions and concerns have appeared in them, but they have already become more human, and not like a beautiful doll.

"Well... you... we will take care of him so that he doesn't get worse. Maybe if he doesn't live alone, he will…"

"What's wrong with you?" Belle frowned. "You started talking so strangely. Are you sick? Or..." She frowned harder. "Or are you planning something else?"

Gaston could not stand it, and hit the table with his fist

"Here! You again! You're making a monster out of me, and I'm going out of my way to make you happy, to make you... be like you have been before! You're pretending to be a sufferer! I brought you books from that dealer, why don't you read them?"

Belle shook her head "I have neither the strength nor the time to read about someone else's love and other people's adventures," she paused and sighed. "So why do you want my father to live with us? Do you want to control him better or what?"

"Belle, I'm not a monster. Listen… You don't even appreciate that, even though I have all the rights as your husband, I sleep on a chair!"

The girl looked into the blue eyes for a long time and seriously. When she answered, there was pain and fear in her words.

"And this… I don't understand at all why you're doing this. It's so cruel," Belle paused and looked into the distance, as if through Gaston. "It's been a month, everything would have been over by now, I'd probably even get used to it. But now… Every night I wait for the execution, and it is postponed and postponed. It's driving me crazy."

Gaston was so surprised that he didn't even get angry. All the women of the city ran after him and threw themselves on his neck. The whole town considered him the most beautiful, the strongest, the most…

"That is... for you to share the marriage bed with me… With... me!" gasping, the man blurted out, "Is this some kind of torture?"

He watched his wife's face quickly turn pale under his gaze. Damn, she's thinking about her father again!

And indeed.

"No, of course not," Belle muttered. "That's not what I wanted to say, I…"

His wife looked at him like he was a monster. She was afraid of him.

And for some reason, this made Gaston feel bad himself. He needed to be adored, to be admired. To be loved. And it was simple. No one rejected him, no one refused. At first he thought that Belle was leading something like an eternal ritual game of women, that it was only necessary to press harder, to court longer…

And then he couldn't back down–his arrogance played a cruel joke on him. If he had proposed to Belle in private, and no one would have known about the rejection, Gaston could have come out of this situation victorious. But he himself invited the whole town to the wedding, and then he ended up in pig slops. And marrying Belle was already a matter of honor.

Now his honor was saved, but how to live now after the wedding? How to live every damn day?

Gaston turned away from Belle's frightened face–he couldn't look any longer. Then he left the house and headed into the town. But halfway down the road to the town, he stopped. Everyone will greet him, clap him on the shoulder, call him to the tavern, chat... Lefou will get attached. And Gaston wanted to be alone. Something heavy settled in my heart, did not allow me to breathe.

The man turned around and went back to the forest. Hunting always calmed his nerves.

Yes, he left his gun at home, but his long dagger was always with him. It doesn't matter who he kills today, the main thing is not to think that a night with him is an execution.

Why?

Still, they say he's handsome. All the people around can't be wrong! So why?

And why did her words make him feel so bad? After all, any woman can comfort him if he just beckons with his finger.

Why?

Gaston entered the forest and almost immediately hit the trail of a boar. That's what he needed. He quickly drove the beast to the swamps, there was nowhere for the boar to retreat. But when it came to the battle, Gaston became somewhat absent-minded. Thoughts of his wife again took possession of his mind, and the beast suddenly dodged and, escaping, ripped open the hunter's side. With a triumphant sob, the boar ran away, and Gaston, clutching his side with his hands to stop the warm blood that flowed from the wound, hobbled towards the house.

The hunter strained all his strength and all his will to just walk along the road, his head was already spinning, and fog danced before his eyes. Here his house appeared. Belle was standing on the threshold for some reason, and was not inside.

Had she been waiting for him?

He took two more steps and collapsed to the ground. The last thing he heard, losing consciousness, was the sound of his wife's light footsteps and her exclamation:

"Oh, my God, Gaston!"