’ ‘Yes…er…right.’ The clergyman looked at the bride, who was still squirming in the groom’s tight grip. ‘Wilt thou have this man…’ �...�Aye, she will,’ growled Donald. ‘Please, sir, she must answer for herself.’ The two men confronted each other briefly, the clergyman finally plucking up courage for defiance. Donald backed down. ‘Answer,’ he ordered Catherine. She looked daggers at him. ‘I…’ The pressure on her arm increased. ‘…will,’ she gasped. ‘Have you a ring?’ ‘Aye, that I have.’ Donald looked. He gave her his cell phone number. She seemed better at that point and although they kissed, which helped Bridgette of course, she still had visions of making love with him. Passion filled her soul as did her heart. She wanted him, terribly. She could feel him everywhere she told herself as the day moved on. And then when he came home he opened the channels again. Again, he was a rip roaring drunk and he ripped into her complaining about this or that and she knew one thing. She had had enough. More

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