Shaking her shoulder gently, I tried again. No response. This time I shook hard, relieved when she stirred.“Da. Sh tha you?”Why was she slurring? ...��It’s me. How are you feeling, honey? I asked.“Hea hurs,” she mumbled.“What?” I asked, trying to understand her.My daughter didn’t respond. Nothing. It was as if she’d drifted back to sleep. I thought that was good, at first. But the more I thought about it the more worried I became. Switching the bedside lamp on, a soft yellow glow brought Sia’s face. I was 33 and he was 22. Walking across a pedestrianbridge toward his hotel he stopped briefly to enjoythe full summer moon glistening off the still riverwater below us. As we enjoyed the soft summer breezehe pulled me tightly to him and kissed me lightlybefore proceeding to his hotel. I could feel my heartracing and my panties getting moist in anticipation ofBobby’s private performance.As we entered the elevator going up to his room, Bobbypushed himself against me pinning me to the back. I could feel it leaking out of me; it was squishy in my lace andribboned panties.I remembered our wedding day. What a beautiful bride Wendy had made! Shelooked like something out of a fairytale walking down the aisle. I thoughtthat was the point at which we would live happily ever after. How couldanyone blame her for feeling cheated? How could anyone blame her fordespising me? How could anyone blame her for blaming me for herdisillusionment and our divorce, when not even I could? I glanced. I kiss it slowly from top to bottom. He is large and thick and beautiful.He can pleasure any woman,but tonight he will pleasure only me. He has his hands in my hair and I suck him slowly. There is no need to rush, no need to act as if I am going away for now. I stare in his eyes and I can see a fire there. He is a rich man, used to having everything. I smile then and I come back up to his face and kiss his cheeks. ‘Esme Erin.’ I am Erin. I say in Arabic and he moans softly and grabs me and we.