It's not even a case of what's mine is mine. What's mine is his if we split."I felt sick and got up and left the room only to vomit in the bathroom. I...remained seated on the toilet, trying to sort things out.Fifteen minutes later, resigning myself to averting anything that might damage her marriage, I picked up the telephone and called the airport. After arranging for a ten o' clock flight to Minneapolis, I began packing. It didn't take long. Julie was sitting where I'd left her, a vacant. So now you are debating on what to do, then you realize I have finished and am getting out of the tub. I stand up and you see my body in the candle light as you watch the bubbles slide off me. I know you are watching me because I had planned for you to hear me when you came home. You still think I don't know your there so you watch as I dry off and start to put on my clothes. At this point you want me so bad that you can taste my lips. So you slowly open the door and to your shock I'm not. You made it a loving experience." How could it not be? For just a short while the love came to the fore, soon the hurt will be back." I felt horrible about saying that, reminding her of the anger back then. But it did serve to prevent too many emotions from surfacing. Sorrow suffused her face."Is it still the same, Tim? Is the hurt still there?" I tell myself to forget, and for quite a lot of the time I do. Yet when I relax in the evenings, the heartache comes out of nowhere. The anger has. By this point, we were both feeling no pain; my wife made very little effort to stop her blowing skirt. She put a hand down to hold it to her side, but it still blew up enough to show her delights. This was exciting enough on its own, and I loved how much she was exposing on the sidewalk. Had the night ended there I would have been just as happy, but I was excited and looking forward to getting back to our room. In the room, my wife undressed and put on a red silk robe. The robe is very short.