My pretty sundress was nearlytorn off me by one of the bad-assed hombres during the drive to Mexico,and only the heroic intervention of a few of the d...y laborers saved me.Once we crossed the border, we were summarily released into a crowdedplaza, full of street merchants selling blankets, Chiclets and cheapclothing. Wandering aimlessly in my torn dress, I was able to barter myinexpensive women's wristwatch for the peasant skirt and top that I'vebeen wearing since I got here. At least I was. It was something they would never buy for themselves. I had done it weeks ago. The jeweler called and left a message on my phone a couple days ago. That would complete my Christmas shopping.I chose a different style necklace and earrings for each of them and I was anxious to see what they would look like with the dresses, but I had confidence they would look great. I just hoped he had the boxes marked according to the way I ordered them.We spent the evening with present wrapping and final. He started to take bold names of the specification of the dress.Now I was feeling a bit uncomfortable. But I didn’t oppose, practically my nature didn’t allow me to. After viewing a few clothes I finally chose one. It was a body-fitted suit along with skin-tight bottom. But the dress looked like it was a little smaller for me to get in.So I suggested the salesman give me one size bigger one. He smiled and asked me to go and try it at least. I nodded my head and went to the changing room. I. “Just because you may like it doesn’t mean we should do it.”“Why?” Mat opens his eyes.“Because this isn’t about me.”“If you’re trying to make this about me, then give me what I want.”“What do you want?”“For you to give in!” They glare at each other, Abby’s words lingering between them.“I want you to stop keeping yourself from me, to stop holding back. You like pleasing me. Did it ever occur to you that I like pleasing you?” He doesn’t answer. “This isn’t just about me anymore. It’s about us..