The limp still looked the same, so I determined that aspirin was not a wonder drug after all. Deep inside I knew that it was a long road back for Mr. ...at, if he ever did make it back.I decided to have lunch in a sit down restaurant for a change. Sunday had always been just another day to me. Just as Thanksgiving had been last week, I thought. Still I was in the mood to put on my best jeans and the new sweater. The one I bought in a real store, not Goodwill, and then go out to lunch. It was only. He grabs another towel from somewhere and wraps my sopping wet hair up. I revel in the feeling of someone else doing my hair for me, rubbing my hair dry in the towel. It relaxed me. He disappeared, coming back with my brush out of my purse. While the coffee brewed he brushed my long hair, taking all the snarls out with surprising efficiency.He hands me a fresh cup of coffee, somehow knowing I liked it with no sugar and a little milk.Grabbing my hand, he looks into my eyes and says, "You're mine. More

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