“But all seven year marriages are a bit rocky sometimes. I was happy.”“Has he ever cheated on you?” I asked.“Not that I know of,” she said... I latched onto that.“But you’re not confident enough to say he hasn’t?”“I guess you can never be 100% sure. Let’s call it 99%.”“Kids?” I worried.“No, he was in a car wreck in college. No swimmers,” she said, and ran a hand over her belly. “So, if you finish in me it would be a surprise.”“Shit...” I said. She got dressed with alacrity. I was doing my best. I was just a piece of ass, rustled and rebranded with his eight-inch branding iron. His pleas when I left, were just attempts to be able to dump me first.Daryl was interested in art, my body art, not me. We were never close, never talked about love. In fact, we never talked. His love was pottery, pot and hippy friends. I wasn’t even worthy of jealousy. He left untroubled for a pot smoker, surprised I even cared. Elliot wanted me as a trophy to hang on his seduction pad wall, the Asian doe. He. More

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