"Cmon then ya little slut, lets go home, so we can play some more." Hestood, holding my bolero jacket in one hand as he reached out to me withthe othe.... He had no intention of giving me the jacket back and holdingmy wrist tightly he set off dragging me along in total fear andhumiliation at being seen. Luckily, it was late enough for the path tobe quiet, though there were still a couple of cars in the car park. Whenwe got there, I hurried over to his van, desperate for the sanctity ofits. If he wasn’t I didn’t know what I was going to do. I bit my lip. I loved my husband, but even an optimist like me couldn’t pretend that things between weren’t all that good right now. It was his job. I wanted him to be a success, make money, earn the respect of his peers, I really did, but it was like he was obsessed lately. Most nights he didn’t make it home for dinner or even in time to say goodnight to Caitlin, and when he was here, he was tired and preoccupied. I knew he still loved me, but. More

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