Thursday, Friday and Saturday

We lay there, sleepily, touching each other, talking a little.

"You really...I mean, Eric??" Her voice was soft and loving, teasing.

"You saw the picture, babe. Ro and Emily got the same idea. I mean, I hate that his wife has cancer, that absolutely sucks—but I thought my marriage was over."

"I think one cheater in the family is more than enough," she said. "Poor Nita."

****

I'll be damned if it didn't totally stop. Nita, I mean. She was like a different person—I guess not so surprising, given what she'd just been through. But she was grateful as hell to be at our house, and kept telling Shannon what a prize I was. She apologized to me about a million times, said she'd totally misjudged me, etc. etc. I finally told her fine, okay, she could knock it off.

But she still tried to be helpful, even do a little bit of the cooking and housework, after she started feeling better. Then once she got herself a bulldog lawyer who started gnawing on Alex's leg, she had access to some money and found herself a nice apartment while the divorce fireworks were going on. She and Shannon still got together all the time, but at least the two of us had the house to ourselves again.

That part was nice. Just me and Shannon—and a kind of second honeymoon, almost. Both of us more aware of what we had, how much we cared about one another. There's nothing like seeing a marriage explode into radioactive shrapnel to help you appreciate your own a lot more.

So there's a lot more smiling at our place, and a great deal more sex. I really just can't get enough of her, and she seems to feel the same way. It's like the early days, but even better, because we know each other so well. We've had lots of practice, if you know what I mean.

We found out four months later that Eric's wife is going to be okay. The guy's still a major dweeb, but I'm happy for them.