I finally understood why those little cushions you leave scattered in the corners of your couch are called throw pillows. At length I calmed down and ...egan idly contemplating the spoiled evening. Treat myself out for a sumptuous meal, a really, really expensive one--while cleaning up earlier in the week I'd found one of Stephen's credit cards lodged between the sofa cushions. Maybe I could go out and take in a movie. There was always the possibility of going out bar-hopping, pick up the. Did she turn me on? Of course she did. But I couldnt fuck her with her husband sitting 30 feet away. Not to mention in his house. It just wouldnt be right. At about 3AM, Pat looked at me and said, Alright. Okay. Mmhmm. I think…. I think… I think Im done. Im too fucked up. Im going to bed. His eyes were blood shot and he drooled when he spoke. He stood up, stammered and fell back into the couch. Everyone had left but me, and I was just sitting there with Pat getting stoned. She had went in the. More

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