‘I would like your answer to the question,’ she said. My thoughts ran to my feelings of inadequacy, of being ten years older and not feeling very attractive. Now that she was independently wealthy, I didn’t feel like she needed my anymore, and consequently I felt like it was only a matter of time before she left me for some hot young stud muffin. All I could do was enjoy the time we had while we had it. She frowned slightly, as my answer didn’t give her any credit for being faithful. She may have interpreted that as residual from her past, but it was just my assessment that I felt I brought little to the table. I was learning that she didn’t see it that way. She untied the top tie on her shirt. The middle tie was sufficient to keep her shirt maddeningly closed, but now more cleavage was spilling out, especially when she bent to write on a card. I longed to bury my face in it. But then she sat up and handed me the card. It said: What will happen when I’m old and not beautiful anymore?. This was something I felt that I could not share, even with them. As the vicar droned on I became lost in my own thoughts and failed to notice Stephanie's mother approach."You bastard!" She yelled. "You stole my little girl and murdered her."Following the first two words she began to hit me. I made no attempt to defend myself, in fact I felt a little gratitude. I was being punished for what I did. What she was doing to me was trivial in comparison to what I'd done, but someone besides me felt that I was to blame. I deserved whatever this grieving mother could give me. She continued to hit me and scream, although her words never reached my consciousness. I felt that this was a penance that I must serve. Vaguely I became aware that the physical attack had stopped and became aware that her brother, whose name I'd forgotten, had pulled her away. Strangely, I felt cheated, I had not yet received sufficient punishment."Go!" He whispered in a very surprisingly friendly tone.I nodded and.
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