The wild birds went wild in his arms, thrashing their wings and screeching nonstop.
Cluck, cluck, cluck.
They just wouldn't shut up.
Annoyed, Jasper lowered his arms. The roosters dashed off, wings flapping wildly as they sprinted through the banquet hall, leaving chaos and feathers behind. Then things got messy when they pooped on his suit. His face twisted with disgust as he grabbed a wet wipe and scrubbed frantically.
I sneered.
"Dirty, is it? You think this is dirty? These wild chickens are very clean. You're the first man ever to hold them. Much cleaner than the ones you picked for yourself."
The angrier I got, the sharper my words cut. Crying and begging to know why I wasn't enough? That wasn't me. I raise chickens for a living, and if I lost to a chicken, that would be the real humiliation.
So this fight? I refused to lose.
"Katie, who are you really cursing here?"
At last, my husband's mistress, Bianca King, snapped. She straightened her back, puffing herself up like the lady of the house, and shot me a glare.
"Just because I've kept quiet doesn't mean I'm a pushover. Jasper and I have been sparing you some dignity. Don't mistake courtesy for weakness."