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I walked into our living room and sat in my recliner. We sat in silence for a very long time.“Deb, are you hungry?”“No. You had to do it, didn’t you?”“Do what? All I did was watch you two for the past few weeks, then, tonight, I watched you come out of the hotel room together. And then I watched his head explode.”“I know that you are responsible for this, just like last time.”“No Deb. You are responsible for this. You chose to have affairs with married men. By the way, Brian Howland’s wife and three children will benefit from his cheating, both financially and morally. just as did the family of Bill Weaver. Are you hungry?”“No. Brian and I had a very nice lunch earlier.”“Of course. At Martini’s. A very nice place for a last meal. Did you choose it?”At that Deb broke down and began to sob uncontrollably. She moaned and screamed and sniffled. I handed her a box of tissues and sat back in my chair. After almost an hour of watching her, I stood and sat next to her.“Deb, I’m going to bed.. I swirled single malt Scotch in a cut-crystal glass making the ice cubes tinkle, a sound I loved. Taking a sip of amber ambrosia, eighteen years of sherry cask aging slipped down my throat with smooth coolness blossoming into heat as it reached my stomach, The Dalmore Scotch from the Northern Highlands leaving smoky peat on my palate and dried fruit in my nose. It was the perfect drink for the ambiance, for the music, and for my mood.Silent movement drew my attention. My lethargic heart stirred. Walking down the staircase was a vision of cuteness, not sexiness, but pure cuteness. It made my desire evolve from an ache into a physical pain.The blue and white striped pajama top was mine. It was far too big for her and looked perfect on her. Sleeves were rolled up yet still covered her arms. Long bare legs showed, the pajama top just long enough to reach the top of her thighs.She descended the staircase silently, a beautiful mussed young girl, so damn cute; a little girl lost in her.
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