Toward the end of my self-imposed solitude, I heard the doorbell ring early one evening. I was sat in the TV room with a nearly empty bottle of scotch...in one hand and the TV remote in the other. I was not really watching some inane rubbish that was on the large monstrosity my dear wife had insisted we buy, as I drunkenly cursed her, her father and everyone else who fucking knew her. Hoping beyond hope that it was my wife returning to me so she could explain it had all been a mistake and she. Sam was a good man, the kind you could always count on to do the right thing, lend a helping hand. I never dreamed he would have any feelings for me beyond friendship. Adding to that, we were both married, altho both unhappily. I was ending mine, but I knew he had no intentions of leaving his. He felt he owed it to his wife to stay. Still, now knowing how he felt, all I could do was imagine how it would feel to kiss him...just a kiss...just once before I leave in the morning. I told. She knew that the questions were coming, she was resting up for them,thankful that they weren't coming now. Somewhere down the road she'd havea lot to answer for. Right now, she was happy for the reprieve and theblank sunburned scenery outside her window.They spent the night again at The Cactus Inn. Walt half-jokinglysuggested that having survived serial murder there one night, it waspretty good odds they'd might survive it again. Phoebe argued foradjoining rooms. Without saying it in so many. He grinned, and whistled noiselessly, then did the same with Russel on my right. He leered and licked his lips! At that moment, the talking finished, and everyone signed the register, being rushed along by the grumpy official, who just wanted us all gone so he could go home!The seven of us gathered in the hall, congratulations were showered on the couple, (face to face? She truly WAS bloody gorgeous!) and we asked where the reception was to take place. It transpired we were going back to the.