I know that can't be happening. I showered this morning, washing off the remains of yesterday. Washing off the touch, the embrace, the kisses. Washing...off the outward connections made over the course of a day. I know it can't be happening.Yet I can still smell her on me. I close my eyes and inhale and she is sitting next to me. I open my eyes and it...she...is still there next to me. With every breath, I take in the oxygen that sustains my life, and I take in the fragrance that sustains my. I was pretty sure she resented it though.By my fortieth birthday we were living in a great area in a five bedroom home she had picked out and decorated to her taste. She seemed to appreciate and enjoy the rewards of my work. It made it possible for her to live a life of leisure: shopping, spas, lunches with her equally well off friends. I felt like a success and I thought we were content with our life. We still had sex several times a week, even then. And it was good sex, judging by my feelings. More

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