From my angle sitting atthe table, I am eye level with the crotches of these guys. One of the guysfinally says tell him to text me when you see him. A...d he grabs my napkinand writes his number down. They leave and clean my table and walkoutside. I go and unlock my bike and here a yell. I look, and I see thisold looking truck. It's the guy that I saw in the food court. I push mybike to his truck. The exhaust is choking me. He asks where I am headed,and I said I was headed back to the house. He. The hungry, desperate gaze of the boys in school, and even some of their fathers as I walked around town, had always made me feel small and vulnerable.The dog reminded me of them, but I didn't know why. I tried to laugh it off. He was only a dog, an animal, and perhaps he wanted some dinner and a scratch behind the ears later, a warm place to sleep on the floor. But he was only a dog and I felt silly worrying over his watchful interest. I reached behind me to find the clasp of my bra and undid. "I'm a programmer." I said."Programmer?" He said bluntly"You know software and applications" I said"So Eric have u ever had a good fuck?" He said"Er Uhm..." I was once again tongue tied."Jesus Eric, we have a lot to catch you up on." He said from behind the curtain."Catch up?" I was confused."Like I said all in good time" he mumbled.I carried on downstairs and sat in the lounge while Ray finished off. Shortly he came hopping down with his original grey vest and blue ripped jeans."Same time. I can’t judge him too harshly because I look like a 1980s call girl. My feet have done enough walking and standing in the 5-inch heels that I’m wearing, so I watch him as he walks towards me. He advances at a slow and deliberate pace, the way that a predator stalks their prey. My heart pounds vigorously and I don’t understand my response because this is my husband. I watched him wear tiaras and play "pretty princess" with our daughter Amanda when she was young. But this isn’t the Rob who was.