I said it with conviction—as if I believed it. Every time I looked at any of my lovers, I felt their incriminating judgment. I’d driven Kate away....I’d let her drift, hidden what I was painting, held back some portion of my trust. It was my fault that Kate was gone and I felt like shit.Wendy wasn’t in her room. Part of me hoped she’d caught up with Kate so at least the two of them could be together and part of me was afraid I’d lost her, too. But she’d chosen. She’d chosen to stay with me as a. Even in the dim smoky room the noise and cheering out on the street filtered through. "At least the barman doesn't have the radio going" he thought. His leg was starting to ache, so he got from the stool and limped over to a table with a padded cured high backed bench partially surrounding it. Settling in and stretching his leg out in front of him, he sipped his beer and thought about the past several weeks.The dull ache in his leg reminded him of the moment when he woke that terrible evening. More

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