This man was forty and I was 28. He was your typical salesman. He was outgoing, gregarious, flirtatious, fun to be around, the real life of the party....We would go out with him when he came to town. He flirted and paid a lot of attention to me, while my husband just got drunk. I found myself increasingly attracted to him. I went to a conference one week and even picked up a guy who reminded me of him, but the guy could not get it up. Shit, here I was ready to cheat on my husband and I couldn't. Walking down that hallway between the two halves of the Red Sea: head down, face flushed, a stack of like eight thick books hugged tight to his skinny chest. He looked up once, though, right at me as he passed, and I saw why the hallway had gone quiet. He had a scar… a long, white scar running all the way from his left temple to the corner of his jawline, just beneath his ear. I also noticed his emerald green eyes. His one little glance had rooted me to the spot. The rest of the hallway came to. More

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