My man accepted me as an old woman. He preferred it! Now I could settle down and enjoy middle-age. We finished dinner and Doug hand fed me the dessert... I ate until my belly hurt. The next morning we made love again. I could see the new cellulite on my fat thighs as I wrapped my legs around him. But I wasn't upset. I was content. For the first time in my life, I was truly content. Up until now the old anger that had made me a criminal had been controlled, but now it was gone. It felt good. We. There was no doubt about it. She had to do it now, harass me. She could rationalize letting me rot before, but not anymore and that reality was killing me. The man? I didn’t care about him. But her... It was the 29th. I’d wondered how long it would be before she assaulted me. Well, and then I knew. But it wasn’t her, yet, it was him, again. I saw him coming toward my door. I left it ajar, as had become my habit. I was hoping the message I sent, via him, would strike home and in the long haul. More

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