His long, tanned fingers were tipped with blunt, square nails and anchored by large, strong, work-roughened hands. I bit my lip and looked back at his...face. ‘I know that he left you and I can’t imagine for a second what that does to a person or how you must feel, but,’ he took my hand in his, ‘at some point, Kylah, you have to let him go. It’s been four years. For eight months I have been watching you, waiting for you to notice that I was, and seeing you go through the day working like a demon. I knocked on his door, but a much younger guy opened the door.He was about thirty,9 years younger than me.I said hello and I asked him where Paul was.He told me he was Paul.I told him he wasn't.Paul was about 60.He laughed and said he was pretty sure he knew who he was,then explained he was the son,and his folks were away in there apartment in Spain.Good grief.Did everyone have a second home ?As he spoke to me he was clearly looking at my 36dd boobs which weren't hidden too well in my John. More

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