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He had no idea where either of his women was. Pete looked at the clock and groaned. It was almost noon. He had badly missed his T time for his every Saturday morning golf game. He felt slightly bad about letting the gang down but what the hell. They could have called if they wanted to and as far as he knew they hadn't.Peter made a new pot of coffee and poured a cup. He slowly walked into his home office. He sat in his desk chair and leaned back. Pete put his feet on the desk and rested his cup of coffee on his stomach as he once again thought about the previous evening. He also thought about the disrespect and disdain Cynthia had shown him over the last two or three years.Pete began to wonder where he had gone wrong and what had happened to his family. He was finishing his fourth cup of coffee when he heard the garage door open. He walked into the kitchen to see which of the women had come home. It was Cynthia. She gasped when she saw him standing in the kitchen.Cynthia stopped in. When she at last reached me I saw something in her eyes, I don't know what, not hate or fear but something, something to make me dream at nights. I gave her a big hug and a kiss, was it my imagination or did my hug last just that little bit longer than everybody else's. For some reason I couldn't get her out of my mind, and the pictures didn't help any of course. I'm no photographer but they had come out rather well and I would often boot up my computer just to have another look.I hadn't mentioned my encounter with the bride to anybody, not even to my work mate on the road crew. In my bed on dark nights, I would think of her and the things I wanted to do to her. More and more she filled my world until at last something had to give. At first it was just a game to watch and see how their household ran. Every morning he would leave first then about half an hour later so would she. All except Tuesdays, on Tuesdays she didn't go to work but stayed home.Then I found myself knocking on her.
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