Besides it’s not your fault so no need to apologize for him. It is my fault for marrying the fucking bastared. And that is putting it lightly too. I...might as well call and cancel the reservation at the restaurant, since he is out of town fucking his bimbo secretary.” “No mom do not cancel it.” as mom reached for the phone again, “Let me get changed real quick into something nicer and I will go with you, and be your husband for the night, till you say it is the end of the night.” Mom just. He didn't know her name nor who she was. All he knew were her habits, what she drank, where she sat, what she read. And it was not sticking to those habits that surprised him that morning. He wondered for who was the second latte she ordered, one more than usual beverage. It was early, his eyes still felt sticky from sleep, limbs a bit stiff and mind hazed by recent, sudden waking up. Yann was always the first to be called in to cover someone else's hangover day off. It was the price of living. More

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