. Can you please stop staring at my legs?" She asked as they made their way to the club... then, like she would always do, she feigned feeling bad and...apologized."I'm sorry," she said in her baby-talk voice, she gently rubbed his thigh and kissed his cheek," I just had a bad day, hon."He had been through the ringer so many times... he was unfazed as he thought to himself "bad day, huh? you ain't seen nothing yet!"But, alas, as usual at the club she paid enough attention to him and danced with. I mean I could kinda pretend. But, in the end, nada.I wondered if the back stabber would be around like my faux-kid had predicted. And if she did come around what difference would that make. Well, again, not a damn bit because I did not tust her—at all!And, of course, there was Anna, a much better person, but by no means the looker that my ex was. And, did that make any difference. I had convinced myself that it didn’t, but was I kidding myself. I was fifty-seven; a chooser I was never gonna. More

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