“Why did you marry me, Maggie?” His voice was gritty and dripped with raw vulnerability. She whipped around to face him. He stood just out of reach with arms splayed gently to his sides. Sweat and sawdust glistened on his skin and thin lines of wet dampened his shirt where it clung against the curves of his chest. “It was the first thing I ever did for myself,” she whispered to him. Her honesty hit her in the gut. Her only taste of freedom had been with him. Free to make her own choices and to love unequivocally, even in the most profound ways. “Love” was a strong word. But so was “forever.” She stepped forward. The harsh light made the edges of his face sharp and distorted, and she found herself reaching up to brush away the hard shadow from his chin with the tips of her fingers. He caught them with his own and held them for a moment, pressing them against the angle of his jaw. The hair there prickled the tender skin of her wrist and she pulled back slightly, unsure as to why she’d done that in the first place. “I’d never pushed boundaries like…