Once free of Mother's grip, I ran back to the main house. Never mind the heat, I needed to put some distance between the garden house and me. Once inside, I went to the sanctuary of my bedroom and was surprised to find Nathan there, standing by the sofa.

"Darby, what's wrong? Has something happened?" He took in my flushed cheeks and overall flustered state.

"I've just been exploring the garden house, Nate." I said the words almost accusingly and wasn't surprised when he flinched. Not surprised, but disappointed instead.

I had been hoping Mother was lying about some of the things she said, but from the way Nathan was now avoiding eye contact with me, I wondered if she had indeed told me the truth after all.

If she had told the truth, I should be grateful. I needed to know if my husband was still in love with his dead wife.

"Was that Savannah's special hideaway? Mother told me all about it." My eyes narrowed.

"You are acting like a child." Nathan’s voice sounded frustrated and angry as he turned away from me.

Now it was my turn to flinch at his words.

He walked away from me, his voice cold. "I don't intend to discuss this with you."

"Why not?" I demanded. I followed after him. "You never talk about Savannah. Her things were all over the place out there. Her makeup, her clothes. Nothing has changed since she died. It's a damn shrine to her memory. It looks like she could just walk in at any point, and resume her life as your loving and devoted wife."

Nathan stopped walking toward the door, and he turned and glared at me. "You have no idea what you are talking about, little girl. Just drop it."

"I can't drop it. Every time I turn around, there is someone or something to remind me about perfect Savannah. Usually, it's your mother doing the reminding, but there are plenty of people out there eager to tell me how different I am than her, how inferior I am to her." I hated that my insecurities were on full display, but I couldn’t seem to stop my words from tumbling out.

Secretly, I hoped he would tell me I was silly, and remind me of how much he loved me, and how it was just the two of us from now on, and that I was perfect for him in every way, but he said nothing.

Frustrated, I pressed on. "I'm drowning here, Nate."

Too late, I realized my choice of words were more than unfortunate. They were downright cruel.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" I reached for my husband, but he pulled away.

Nathan looked furious and then stormed out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. I sank down into a chair by the fireplace and wept like an inconsolable child.

***

NATHAN DIDN'T COME to lunch that day. Nathan almost never missed eating lunch with me, and if he did, he told me in advance. I knew his absence was directly related to our earlier fight. Maxwell, too, was missing from the table, choosing to run some errands in town. It was just me and Mother. Lonely, I picked up my napkin and placed it in my lap and worried about my husband’s absence.

I tried making conversation as we ate our lunch, but I was distracted by the events of the morning.

Mother noticed my preoccupation and pounced.

“Where is Nathan? Did the two of you have a fight?” She smiled smugly when I flinched.

Irritated, I replied. “It’s really not any of your business.”

Mother kept smiling. “Nathan didn’t like to miss a meal with Savannah. They were practically inseparable.”

I decided I needed to be more direct with Mother. If I continued to let this woman run all over me, I was exactly the little girl Nathan had accused me of being. I needed to stand up for myself.

I was also tired of hearing about Savannah at every turn.

I placed my heavy, sterling silver spoon with the "R" monogram down, squared my shoulders, and sat up straighter.

"I've decided to make some changes, Mother."

Dead silence.

"I'm going to order some new bedding for the master bedroom. I think a lighter color would brighten the room immensely, and I believe it needs a feminine touch. I'm also going to hang a few of my paintings there, and I think I will convert the garden house into an art studio. I noticed it gets lots of beautiful morning light, and..."

Mother gasped and clutched her black pearls. "No, Miss Turner. You will not do any of these things. I will speak to Nathan immediately. He will not allow Savannah's memory to be disrespected in this dreadful manner."

I had no chance to put up an argument, or even tell her she was unreasonable. Mother stormed out of the room in a seeming panic, and I followed her, curious to see what would develop.

Surely, a husband would back his wife, right? He had told me I could have anything I wanted, and I certainly hadn't created a list of outrageous demands.

Mother went straight to the library where Nathan was working, and I stayed right outside the doorway. I wasn't hiding on purpose, but Nathan didn't notice me standing there. I wasn’t sure if Mother knew I was there or not. I had been right on her heels, but she was so upset by my words. Maybe she didn’t know I was in the hallway, or maybe she did know, and she didn’t care if I heard her.

"Nathan, Darby just told me she's converting the garden house into an art studio. You can't allow this to happen!"

Mother was so distressed that she was stammering. I was a little afraid for her when she started gasping and turned a little pale. Nathan took her by the arm and helped her sit down.

"Darby isn't going to do any such thing. I'll have Maxwell put a special lock on the door so no one can get in." His voice was calm and untroubled.

"You shouldn't have married her, Nathan. It was a mistake! She's trying to ruin everything."

There was a long pause, then Nathan sighed.

"Maybe I shouldn't have married her. She's so young and innocent..." Nathan sounded exhausted.

I didn't stay to listen anymore. I fled, broken-hearted. Nathan had just confirmed my worst fears. He did not want the garden house redecorated because it was Savannah's shrine. He regretted marrying me so impulsively.

Nathan was still in love with the memory of his dead wife.