The Luckiest Man

The Luckiest Man

My name is Tom Walsh. Not a common name for a guy in his late twenties these days, but I was named after my grandfather. My mother and her sister adored their father. He died way too young, and they agreed whoever had the first child would name him Thomas. My mom won the baby lottery.

My life has been a rollercoaster of a ride to this point.

No, really.

Let me explain.

Sarah and I were high school sweethearts. She did much better in school than I did and went off to college while I worked manual labor jobs out of high school. She loved books and studied library sciences, eventually getting a job as a school librarian.

Yes, I was married to the hot librarian. Sometimes fantasies do come true.

We both came from what many would term 'lower middle-class' homes. I do not say that as a bad thing. It taught us to be frugal with our money, because that's the way our parents were.

I was lucky to get into one of the bigger construction firms in our area and was slowly working my way up the ladder. I proposed while Sarah was still in college. It took a couple years of saving after she graduated for us to afford a modest wedding. We saved for a few more years after that, and about a year ago, were finally able to afford a small home.

It needed a lot of work, but I was handy and felt I could make it into the home we both envisioned in a few years' time. I had to balance the money needed to do the upgrades I wanted with the money we were putting away to have a baby.

I know some people would say we should have just had a baby and figured things out along the way. But we had both seen the strain that finances put on our parents, and the fights that money caused. We didn't want that for ourselves.

It also allowed us to enjoy our time as a couple, and we truly did.

The term 'soulmates' gets thrown around a lot, but in this case, I believed it. I'm sure if you asked Sarah back then, she would have said the same.

I know some people want to go back in time and change things. Change mistakes they've made. I've certainly made plenty, and while the idea of changing my mistakes sounds enticing, I'd rather go back and just live in that time again. I was truly happy.

I'm sure you're guessing, based on my earlier rollercoaster comment, that the happiness didn't last. You'd be correct. It only took a couple of years for it to implode.

Actually, it imploded in one single day; we just didn't know it at the time.

What happened?

We won the lottery.

I know spending money on the lottery is foolish. The odds being so astronomical that you were more likely to be struck by lightning - twice - than win one of those big lotteries.

We didn't think we'd win. We did it as a form of entertainment. We made it a game in which the night the lottery was drawn, we each had to come up with something we'd buy.

It started out as standard stuff... a house, a nice car, but then we both got into a groove where we'd try to come up with something ridiculous, just to make the other laugh.

I once told her I would buy a tank to make the commute to work more entertaining.

Sarah wanted to hire a personal chef and trainer to make sure we ate healthy, didn't have to clean up the kitchen and stayed in shape. This one didn't make me laugh, it made me think. It wasn't a bad idea, actually.

We probably spent about ten dollars a week on the lottery. In my mind, at that time, it was worth every penny for the laughter it bought us.

Actually checking the numbers became an afterthought.

The drawing we won happened on a Wednesday evening. We didn't even check the numbers until that weekend.

I still remember standing in front of the stove, cooking us both some eggs. The bacon was already cooked and sitting on a plate.

Sarah was sitting at our kitchen table going through the mail, and then the tickets, when she suddenly exclaimed, "HOLY SHIT!"

"What?"

"I think we won!"

I just chuckled, then commented, "You're still not bringing all those cats here."

During our most recent discussion of what we would buy, Sarah said she would buy the local animal shelter she followed on Facebook 'to save all the adorable cats.'

"No, I'm serious!"

I walked over to the table, determined to find the numbers she transposed, or the incorrect date for the numbers she looked up.

Regular people didn't win the lottery. I'm sure everyone has that friend who is into all the conspiracy theories. Mine is Andrew. He asserted that it was all a scam to take more money from those who could least afford to lose it. We laughed him off until he asked us, "How many lottery winners do you know?"

"Well, there aren't that many lottery winners."

"There are hundreds of people who supposedly win a jackpot of a million or more every year. Don't you think we would have heard of one around here by now? Or at least someone who knows someone, who knows someone who won," he countered.

It did make me think.

I leaned over Sarah's shoulder looking at the ticket and the numbers on her phone. I kept going back and forth, looking for the mistake. I must have done it a dozen times.

"Well!?"

I couldn't find the mistake, but my brain just wouldn't accept what I was seeing. Sarah, growing frustrated with my lack of acceptance, pointed out each number and its match on the ticket.

Then she leapt up from the chair and wrapped me in a hug.

We spent the rest of the afternoon Googling what to do if you won the lottery.

Evidently, the first thing you're supposed to do is sign the back of the ticket. We did that, then put it in a Ziplock bag so we didn't accidentally destroy our newfound wealth by knocking a cup of coffee onto it. We didn't have a safe in our house. We didn't have anything valuable enough to necessitate one, so we hid it in Sarah's sock drawer.

*****

The next few weeks were obviously a whirlwind. Our Googling told us we should hire a lawyer that specializes in dealing with lottery winnings.

That was a shock to me, I guess there's a lawyer specialty for everything these days.

We ended up talking to two different lawyers and picking one. It was still a niche specialty after all, and not that many lawyers were licensed for it in our state.

He helped us navigate the legalities. In our state you must claim the prize yourself, you can't have a trust claim it. We didn't mind as we weren't planning on keeping it a secret.

I should also mention that we won one of the 'smaller' jackpots. One of the monster, hundreds-of-millions drawings having been won a week or so before ours. After all the taxes and the lump-sum payout, we still had tens of millions. More than enough to live very comfortably for the rest of our lives.

If we were smart with the money, that is.

*****

We told our parents before we even claimed the prize. Even though we told them not to, they started telling our relatives and their friends.

Neither of our families were rich. Neither of us had that rich relative that so many people seem to have. We were now the rich relatives.

The problems that neither of us envisioned, but I'm sure most of you have already figured out, started almost immediately. Relatives started showing up. Some we didn't even know we had. All asking for money. All came with a down-on-their-luck story. Some of them were probably even true.

We knew what it was like not to have much, and they were family, so we helped some of them out. That only made it worse.

After the fifth 'cousin' we didn't know we had showed up, we moved forward with our plans to move. The lawyer suggested a gated community so we wouldn't have to deal with unexpected visitors. We also used the opportunity to move out of the northeast.

I loved to golf. Sarah had played tennis in high school. We chose a community in Florida that had both.

The Florida real estate market was red-hot at the time. We had never shopped for a multi-million-dollar home before, so had no idea if we overpaid or not. But it was real estate, and that's always a good investment, right?

*****

We invited our parents and all our friends down for a long weekend at our new place, all expenses paid. We rented two Airbnb homes not far from ours. One for the parents as we assumed they would not be interested in partying as long or as late as we would, and one for the rest of our friends that wouldn't fit in our house. Including friends and family, twenty people ended up coming down on a Thursday morning.

The last two months had been such a whirlwind for us that we hadn't much time to hang out with any of our friends. Sarah and I were both excited to have everyone down.

The girls planned shopping trips, and I planned two separate days of golf for the guys.

The party atmosphere started Thursday evening after everyone arrived, and I have to say, it was a great time. Our huge kitchen opened up into our two-story great room. On either side of the floor-to-ceiling windows that dominated the center of the room were doors that opened to the outside patio and pool. One side had a spacious covered veranda with ceiling fans and an outdoor kitchen. The other side was the hot tub.

It was paradise.

Given how everyone gushed, and how quickly they got comfortable and started enjoying themselves, I think they agreed.

We had hired caterers for the food and a bartender, sparing no expense for our friends. Even with the help, I kept moving between the groups of friends and family, having conversations and seeing if anyone needed anything.

At one point, I moved back inside and made my way toward the kitchen. Sarah and a group of her friends all had wine glasses and were talking exuberantly around the kitchen island. I stopped to see what the conversation was about.

It took me a moment to figure it out, but they were talking about the reality TV series Below Deck. For those of you who don't know, it's a tv show about the life of the crew on a superyacht. I only knew this because Sarah occasionally watched it and told me about it when I queried her on it.

"You and Tom have the money now. You should totally do that," said Shannon.

Shannon was the friend everyone seemed to have that was perpetually tan, no matter the season. I worried about her long-term health, as she had been going to tanning salons since she was a teenager, but I had to admit, it looked good on her. With olive skin, long dark hair, and piercing blue eyes, she was very attractive. She was also one of Sarah's closest friends.

"Do what? Rent a yacht? That's crazy!" Sarah replied.

"Why is it crazy?" Amy replied. Amy was almost the opposite of Shannon. Pale skin that would burn if she spent five minutes in the sun. She had flame red hair and stood barely five feet tall. What she lacked in height, she made up for with her bubbly personality.

The lively banter continued about the idea and drew some of the guys into the conversation. I stood and just listened passively, enjoying how excited the idea seemed to make everyone.

Eric came to stand by me, holding a beer. "What is everyone so excited about?"

"They were talking about that show Below Deck. Now everyone seems to think it's a great idea for us to rent a yacht to take everyone on."

Eric had been my best friend since kindergarten. He was the best man at my wedding, and whenever he got married, I would be the best man at his. Things were looking good between him and his girlfriend Kylie. I was expecting a proposal within the year if it continued.

Eric didn't reply and when I looked over to him a moment later, he seemed to be deep in thought, a slight frown on his face. I was enjoying the conversation so let it go. I turned to see Eric heading out to the veranda where our parents were hanging out.

The conversation eventually turned to other topics and the alcohol continued to flow. It had been dark for a couple of hours and the parents had left for the Airbnb an hour earlier. We had been drinking since five and I don't think anyone was close to being sober.

Things seemed to be dying down when the idea of renting a superyacht came back up. This seemed to reinvigorate everyone. I was still moving between the different groups. When I came back out onto the veranda where most of the women had moved to, it seemed the decision had been made.

The girls were crowded around Sarah looking at different ships and destinations they wanted to go to. The excitement was palpable. When Sarah saw me, her eyes gleamed and she asked me to sit next to her to look at the choices they were settling on.

I was too drunk at this point to make coherent decisions, so I just went along with whatever they were planning.

*****

Friday was one of our golf days. I wish I could take credit and say that I booked the 10am tee time knowing that most of us would be hungover, but that wouldn't be true. That was the only time they could fit in two threesomes.

I was in a cart with Eric. My father was in the other cart. We had a few abysmal holes. Partly due to the hangover, partly due to me only getting to splurge on golf about once a month during the northeast golf season before our move, and I wasn't a very good golfer to begin with.

By the fourth hole, the two bottles of water and handful of ibuprofens I consumed were finally starting to take effect. Eric seemed to be the same, as he started to chat more, having been quieter than usual the last few holes.

We were sitting in the cart at the 5th tee box waiting for the foursome in front of us to tee off. My father had gone to use the bathrooms that were at this hole.

I had been telling Eric about the course I booked us for Sunday, when he changed topics.

"You weren't serious about the superyacht thing last night, were you?"

As drunk as I was, I hadn't really thought about it. To me it just seemed like one of those fantasies you start talking about, and then everyone gets in on the excitement of it. Kind of like talking about what you would do if you won the lottery.

"I don't know."

I stopped to look at a gecko scurrying across the path and into the flowers, still not used to the wildlife here in Florida.

"You know how expensive those things are, right?"

Some of the prices came back to me, many in the hundreds of thousands for a week.

"Yeah, I remember some of them were pretty steep."

"It's your money man, and of course I appreciate you flying us down here... all of this..." He waved his hand around, meaning the golfing we were currently doing.

"... I'm just... I don't know..."

I could tell he was uncomfortable, and I was starting to see where he was going.

"It's ok man, I hear you... I think everyone just got excited last night. I'm sure it won't go anywhere."

We both left it at that. My father got back from the bathroom, and we continued our round. I didn't achieve my normal goal of trying to break 100, but given my hangover, I wasn't surprised.

*****

We had a late lunch at the clubhouse and headed back to the house, arriving just after the ladies had returned from a day of shopping.

There were bags everywhere. Dozens of them. While I know nothing about fashion, I did recognize a few of the designer names on bags.

I headed up to the bedroom to shower. Sarah was just finishing putting her bathing suit on when I walked in.

"Hi, Babe!"

"Hi beautiful, looks like you and the girls had quite the shopping trip."

"Yeah! I mean we definitely went overboard, but it was worth it to see how happy the girls were."

I was getting undressed to get in the shower. Pondering how she phrased her statement, I asked the question I already knew the answer to, "Oh, did you treat?"

"Yeah, of course."

I was silent for a moment, pondering that while half-undressed.

Sarah walked up and stood in front of me, looking up at me, "You're not mad, are you?"

"No, of course not."... and I wasn't. I just had Eric's unsaid feelings rattling around in my head.

She stood on her toes to kiss me, then giggled, "Go wash the salt off you."

I smiled in return. "On my way."

The shower in our new home still amazed me. The open design, waterfall head, were all new to a guy who was used to the standard insert tub/shower combo from the homes in which both Sarah and I grew up.

I hadn't even lathered up yet, luxuriating in the feeling of the water raining down on me, when Sarah startled me.

"Hey, babe?"

I still wasn't used to the lack of privacy of the open concept shower. It was a double standard of course. I would spend every second I could staring at Sarah as she showered, until she inevitably demanded I leave, saying it made her self-conscious.

I turned to face her, wiping the water from eyes, "Yeah?"

"Remember we talked about renting a yacht last night?"

I was glad she brought it up, I was sure we would both agree that it was too extravagant.

"Yeah, of course."

"Well, we were all discussing it over lunch today and we'd really like to do it."

"Oh."

"Oh? What's oh? What does that mean?" There was some annoyance in her tone.

"Nothing... it's just... I don't know, doesn't that seem a little over the top?"

"You seemed fine with it last night, why is it suddenly a problem?" My question went unanswered and 'the tone' was still there.

"I'm not saying it's a problem, and I'm not trying to fight with you... I don't know... I guess it's just that we both said we spent more on this house than we wanted to and that we would settle down. It just feels like now we're accelerating."

Her tone changed, realizing I wasn't trying to pick a fight with her, "I know... and I agree, it's extravagant... it's just, you should have seen how excited the girls were by it."

"Ok, I get it."

Seeming mollified, Sarah left the bathroom.

I was hoping that meant we would discuss it more. As I'm sure you've guessed, that's not what happened.

By the end of the extended weekend, the yacht rental plan was a speeding train that couldn't be stopped. Two weeks later we were putting the deposit down for a week and a half Mediterranean cruise on a one-hundred-and-sixty-foot superyacht.

Seven other couples and four singles would be joining us. I was sad that Eric and Kylie wouldn't be joining us, but he was adamant he was too busy with work. No amount of threats or bribes would make him budge.

We paid all the expenses - the airfare and hotels on either end of the trip, limos to and from the airports, and of course the yacht itself and all the expenses that come with it.

I still remember sitting in the living room with Sarah, once it was all over. I remember the look of disbelief on her face. I just felt like a sucker.

The itemized list of expenses ran to fifty-four pages. Calling it a receipt would not do it justice.

Furious at my stupidity, I started adding up the itemized costs. The food and liquor bill alone came to almost two hundred thousand dollars. The total bill was over a million.

Do you know how much it takes to fuel up a superyacht? I certainly didn't. The amount is eye-watering.

I went through the original agreement we signed, still feeling like I'd been duped.

We weren't.

It was all there. All the expenses we would have to pay. Fuel, food for both guests and crew, port fees, everything. They even laid out what typical expenses would be based on sample itineraries. It was all laid out and neither Sarah nor I had read a word of it.

*****

It probably sounds like I'm making Sarah out to be the bad guy here, but I was just as much to blame as she was.

I have always been a car guy. Being in construction and on a budget, all I ever had was a used pickup truck. I scratched that itch by buying a McLaren and a Porsche. I still had a pickup truck, but it was now a custom build that cost more than the Porsche.

Add in the vacations we took every few weeks, constant shopping sprees and we had blown through almost half the money in the first year.

We had to slow down.

And we did... some.

We cut back on all-expenses paid trips for our friends and took them less frequently, which in turn reduced the number of trips our old friends took with us to almost none. We had also met other couples in our new community. Folks that could afford the new lifestyle we were living. That, coupled with our friends from the northeast being a three-hour plane ride away, meant that within a year, our contact with them dropped to almost zero.

Eric would still call me about once a month, see how I was doing. I tried to find time to talk to him when I could. But if I'm honest, I missed or blew off more of his calls than I took. It was not something I felt good about, even back then.

*****

That first year, Sarah and I still seemed to get along well. There were changes of course, but I think we were so caught up in the whirlwind that we didn't notice the effect it was having on us.

It hit finally hit me one morning while I was having a cup of coffee at the island in our kitchen. I had played a round of golf first thing and had just gotten home. I was flicking through email and news stories on my iPad when Sarah came downstairs dressed like she was going on a catwalk.

"Where are you off to?"

"The spa to get my hair and nails done, then probably some shopping with the girls... oh, then I have that charity dinner I told you about with the girls, so I probably won't be home until late."

I didn't remember anything about a charity dinner, but we were both doing so many things these days, she could have told me and I forgot.

"Ok, well please try to go easy on the spending like we talked about."

She was in the fridge looking for something when I made the statement, and I could see her visibly stiffen. Her tone immediately changed as well.

"Oh, try to go easy on the spending? How much did that fucking golf trip to Cabo a couple weeks back cost?"

She had me there. I just lowered my head, but she wasn't finished.

"You know, while we're on the topic, why don't you tell me who this is?"

She walked toward me, grabbing her phone from the counter. I had no idea what she was talking about until she pulled up a video and showed it to me.

I could tell immediately it was from one of the resorts we visited in Cabo. The shaky camera footage panned around the table as dance tunes thumped out in the background. The table was full of empty booze bottles and glasses. Some of the guys had young ladies sitting on their laps. The camera turned to one of my neighbors, a sultry brunette perched on his lap. He was starting to diatribe on how awesome a time they were having.

Sarah paused the video and expanded the background. In it you could see a long-legged blonde wearing a short skirt and a spaghetti strap top that showed a lot of midriff on the dancefloor. Across from her dancing was unmistakably, me.

I was surprised that she had video of it, but I wasn't that concerned. I just danced with her. Badly I might add. I then went back to my room, puked and passed out.

"What's the big deal, I just danced with someone... and it wasn't a slow dance or anything."

"Right, you expect me to believe that?"

"I do, because it's the truth. Why would you think anything else happened?"

"Because that's not the only video. Stacy showed us three different videos of Connor fucking different sluts that weekend."

My mind started racing. I couldn't think of anything I did that was inappropriate or would piss Sarah off. Then my thoughts turned, how the hell did Stacy have these videos?

I didn't have to wait long for an answer.

"Stacy has had the password to his phone for years. Whenever he passes out drunk, she sends herself the latest videos of whatever whore he's been banging."

"Why would he be stupid enough to record all that?" The question was more to myself, I almost didn't realize I had said it out loud until Sarah responded.

"Because he's a self-absorbed prick."

"So why is Stacy still married to him?"

"She's keeping the videos in case she decides to divorce him. But he still gives her whatever money she wants, so she's staying with him for now."

What a different world this was.

"Well, that's not me." I may have gone on vacation with him and ten other guys, but I didn't want to be lumped in with their debauchery.

"It's not? When was the last time you paid any attention to me?"

That threw me for a loop and got me angry.

"Pay attention to you!? You're never here! Between the spa appointments, the tennis lessons, the shopping sprees, the girls' nights out, the girls' vacations, I'm lucky I get to spend five minutes a week with you!"

I was getting worked up, I had to tone things down. This is not how I wanted to talk to my wife. I unfortunately did not get the chance to de-escalate.

"Fuck off, Tom! With all the golf and getting plastered at the clubhouse after, you're never here either!"

She spun around, grabbed her Chanel bag off the island, and stormed off towards the garage. Her high heels clacked on the tile the whole way until I heard the door slam.

Fuck my life... what had we become?

*****

From that point on the atmosphere around the house was frosty. I reevaluated the last year. Maybe things hadn't been as good as I thought.

I also thought about what Sarah had said, and she was right, we never saw each other anymore. Maybe the reason I thought things were going well was because we were never alone long enough with each other to fight about anything.

If we slept in the same bed after that morning, I don't remember it. Either I would be asleep already and Sarah would sleep in one of the guest rooms, or I would come home drunk and sleep in one of the guest rooms as not to wake her. I had also slept on the couch, or one time, on the floor of the guest bathroom where I had passed out.

I was sitting on one of the stools at the island in the kitchen one morning, nursing a hangover again, of course. I tried looking at the news on my iPad and couldn't concentrate. I looked over to the other end of the island and noticed the large pile of mail that had built up.

I unsteadily got off the stool, walked over and picked up the mail. Settling back on the stool, I started absently tossing envelopes off the pile.

Credit card bill, electric bill, credit card bill, another credit card, and another, and another.

Fuck! How many credit cards did we have now?

Tossing more envelopes to the side, I eventually got to what looked like an expensive stationary envelope. Probably another one of Sarah's charity invites. I was about to toss it, until I saw the return address.

Eric.

Fuck.

I opened it, and as expected, it was an invitation to his wedding. I had been ignoring his calls for a couple of months now. I didn't even know he was engaged.

What a piece of shit I am.

I opened it and sat staring at the invitation as Sarah came downstairs. This time she had a Prada bag on her arm. I looked up to meet her eyes. Contempt was written all over her face.

She breezed past me on the way to grab a water from the fridge.

"Go take a shower. You smell like a fucking distillery."

With that, she clacked her way down the hallway and out to the garage.

*****

I was in the back seat of a Cadillac Escalade heading up I-95 toward Sea Island Resort in Georgia for another long golf weekend.

After the Cabo debacle a few months back, I didn't even want to go, but it was already paid for.

Also, what would I do if I didn't go? Sarah never hung around the house if I was there anymore. Hell, she was barely speaking to me these days. All the guys I would hang out with where on this trip.

I would probably just sit home and get drunk.

I pushed the thoughts away as I listened to Tony drone on. He was pitching all of us on a new real estate deal he was putting together. Mark asked him why he was looking for investors, pointing out that he never wanted them in the past.

I guess the question made sense. From what I could tell, Tony was insanely wealthy. Private jet, yacht, multiple vacation homes - he had it all.

Tony explained he had so many projects going on right now due to how hot the market was, he was leveraged out. I tried to keep up as best I could with the discussion, I was in construction in my previous life after all. But the financial aspects of it mostly went over my head.

It was when he started talking about the typical returns he was seeing - and the timeframes for them - that I started to take notice. Sarah and I were down to about a quarter of our original winnings. If we didn't seriously start curbing our spending, or do some investing with our remaining funds, we would probably be out of money in the next year or two.

I mainly listened, trying to absorb what I could. Only asking a question or two and trying to not look stupid doing so. I have no idea if I was successful or not.

*****

That evening, we had dinner at the resort and then went to the bar. One by one, the guys left to get some sleep, our seven a. m. tee time the next morning looming over us. I was the last one at the bar, nursing what had to be my sixth or seventh bourbon, when an attractive woman around my age came up the bar and ordered a drink.

I wish I could tell you what she looked like, what she wore, or even what we talked about, but honestly, it's so fuzzy I'm not sure.

What I am sure about, is that I woke up after noon the following day with a headache that made me feel like I was dying.

As I lay there trying to figure out what happened the night before, and why I slept so late, I had flashes of trying to open the door to my room with the woman hanging on me.

This panicked me and I jumped up and started looking around the room for clues she'd been there.

After finding no signs of her I started to relax, until I looked at the nightstand and noticed my wallet was open. I grabbed it and sure enough, all the cash was gone. So was my Patek Phillippe watch. At least she didn't take the whole wallet.

There were a ton of messages on my cell phone as well as the room phone. Whatever she had slipped in my drink worked well because I didn't hear a thing. Then again, I was already very drunk when she stepped up to the bar. I was lucky the alcohol and drug combo didn't kill me.

I doubted anything happened between myself and the mystery woman. I probably passed out as soon as I got in the room. The fact that I got drunk enough to let someone drug me, brought said person back to my room and then let them rob me sent my already dim view of myself spiraling further downward.

I no longer felt like golfing. I no longer felt like being at a resort. For not the first time, I started thinking about my previous life and how much I missed it.

I thought briefly about calling the cops. I'm sure a high-end resort like this had cameras everywhere.

I dismissed it just as quickly. Visions of Sarah finding out about it swam through my head. Her already low opinion of me would drop into negative territory, and I wouldn't blame her.

I texted the guys back, telling them I was really sick and going to make my way home separately. Then I put my phone on do not disturb. I didn't want to talk to anyone else.

I took a cab to a rental car agency, grabbed a car for a one-way rental back home, and got on the road.

A few hours, several bottles of water and a stop for more ibuprofen later, I was pulling into our driveway. I walked through the front door wondering if Sarah was home. I'm sure I looked like shit and wondered what kind of verbal lashing I would get. Whatever it would be, I felt like I deserved it.

She wasn't in the kitchen so I slowly climbed the stairs, hoping she wasn't home so I could just take a shower and sleep some more.

It was when I got to the top of the stairs that I started hearing the noises. The unmistakable noises of sex.

I continued to slowly walk toward the bedroom. I was numb. I was on autopilot. There was none of the anger or rage that I would have felt only a few months before if I had caught someone fucking my wife. I was resigned to it. It felt inevitable.

When I got to the doorway and looked in, my first thought was 'wow, that guy is in great shape.'

An odd thought to think as you watched someone try to pound your wife through the mattress.

I stood silently for a few moments, listening to the slapping and squishing noises, the grunts and moans, with the occasional 'give it to me baby,' thrown in.

Staring at their writhing bodies, I finally realized who was on top of my wife. It was Adam, the tennis pro from our club.

What a cliché.

I finally turned away, headed back down the hall and out of the house. I got in the rental car, went to the nearest hotel, showered, turned my phone off and crawled into bed.

*****

I convinced myself that I deserved to be cheated on.

I needed to right this ship.

I stayed at the hotel until the boys' trip was over. I dropped the rental off and took an Uber back home. Sarah was nowhere to be found, of course. I sat at the kitchen island, opened my iPad and started going through our finances.

I didn't have access to whatever credit cards Sarah had opened, so had no idea how much was owed on those. Regardless, I could see we were hemorrhaging money.

Tony's real estate investment idea came back to mind. I called him up and offered up some numbers of what I thought I could invest. He was excited and told me some of the returns and timeframes he was expecting. I said I was interested, and he promised his attorney would send over an agreement the next day.

A courier dropped off the agreement around noon. I gave it a cursory glance, signed it and dropped it off at the local courier service. Three days later I had been to our financial adviser's office and was now at Tony's office, signing the paperwork to transfer half of our remaining winnings over to Tony's company.

I didn't talk to Sarah about it. I didn't talk to an attorney. Our financial adviser tried to talk to me about it, but I shut him down.

I needed a win, and this would be it.

*****

Sarah avoided me that whole week. If she saw me, she made a beeline for the bedroom and would lock herself in it. That or she would just leave the house.

It was four days after I signed the money over to Tony when my wonders of whether we would ever speak again were answered.

I heard her Range Rover come screaming into the driveway and screech to a halt. She threw the front door of our home open with such ferocity I thought she had broken it.

She stormed up to me with a look of rage on her face that actually frightened me.

"WHERE THE FUCK IS THE MONEY!?!"

"I invested it."

"Invested it!? Invested it in what!?"

"Tony has a real estate deal he's working on. He's looking for investors." I felt a lot less confident than I did ten minutes ago.

"Tony Cattaneo!?!"

"Yeah..."

"Are you fucking kidding me!? You stupid fucking shithead!"

As she berated me, all I could think about was how we never cursed at each other in our previous lives. Never talked down to one another.

She snapped me back to attention. "Didn't you fucking hear me!?"

"No." I answered honestly.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!? Are you drunk again!?"

I wasn't at the moment, which was a novelty these days, "No."

"I said do you know how many investors he's fucked over!?"

"What are you talking about?" I felt the edges of panic start to set in.

"Angie says he's being sued by a dozen different investors he's fucked over in the last couple of years alone... how the fuck do you not know this!?"

I felt my anger rising, "How would I know that?! You think he's going to come out and say he rips people off, but please give me money anyway?"

"Normal people do some fucking research before they invest their money. You would know that it you weren't a piece of shit, trailer park white trash!!"

My anger deflated. She was right. I was clueless about this world and blindly stepped in. It still hurt though, and I made the only defense I could think of, "You grew up in the same town I did."

It was lame, and it hurt all the more because all I wanted to do was go back there and pretend none of this ever happened.

Sarah's tone softened ever so slightly around the edges, "I did. The difference being, I am adapting to our new surroundings. You're still the same dumb construction worker... that's what you'll always be."

She turned and walked away. Clacking her way to the stairs before she hit the carpet on them, turning from a clack to a dull thump. She thumped her way down the hall, and I heard the bedroom door slam.

I sat there feeling like the piece of shit my wife thought me to be. I'm not sure how much time passed, maybe an hour, and she emerged from the bedroom. As she came down the stairs, I wanted to talk to her, to beg her, to see if we could go back to the way things were.

She didn't even acknowledge me as she left, and I knew trying to delay her would just cause another one-sided fight. I heard her leave the driveway with a little less velocity than she entered.

*****

I had booze delivered and spent the next week trying to stay as drunk as I could. If Sarah ever came home during that time, I didn't hear her. It was possible, I was asleep or passed out more than I was awake.

A little over a week after our last fight, I was in and out of consciousness on the couch. I put a pillow over my head to try and block the light pouring through the great room windows. I heard a noise and thought it was my phone at first. I heard it again. Slowly I pulled myself upright and looked at the coffee table. No phone.

I contemplated just laying back down when I heard knocking. Then the doorbell rang.

Oh, that was the noise.

I unsteadily rose and headed to the door. Opening it, I squinted against the light, trying to focus on who was at my door.

"Thomas Walsh?"

"Yeah?"

"Sign here please."

He stuck a clipboard in my hands, and I shakily tried to do an impersonation of my signature.

Finished, he took the clipboard from me and handed me a package.

"You have been served."

"Huh?"

But he had already turned and walked towards his still-running car.

I headed back inside to the kitchen island and opened the package.

Divorce papers.

Of course.

*****

Sarah had cleaned out the rest of the accounts. After taking half of what was remaining for the investment with Tony, I couldn't blame her.

Unfortunately, that left me penniless, and I needed a lawyer as well. I sold the cars, at a loss of course, but it gave me enough funds to rent a house nearby and hire a lawyer.

I had some money from selling the cars, and I still had the investment with Tony. I wouldn't say I felt comfortable with my situation, but I was optimistic I would come out of it ok.

I was wrong.

The first issue was Sarah had a lot more money at her disposal than I did, and thus much better lawyers. She was determined to destroy me. What assets she couldn't grab via the courts, she and her lawyers made up for by dragging things out as much as possible. Thus costing me as much as possible in lawyer fees on my side.

The courts also didn't take kindly to me taking half our remaining liquid capital and investing it without Sarah's knowledge. They wanted to give her the house. I didn't even try and fight it.

She did though. Her lawyers wanted more. What should have been an easy concession, they dragged out for weeks. More money down the drain.

After a few months, when they didn't let up, I realized I was in trouble. I downsized from a house to an apartment.

They even fought giving me my personal items from the house. I hadn't been back there since the week I was served and hadn't thought of packing anything other than a small suitcase.

They finally relented and a courier service came with a small van and dropped off many of my things. I agreed to a sale of the tools in the garage and other items I couldn't fit in my apartment.

The boxes took up all of the small living room in my apartment. I left them there for a week before I even opened any of them.

When I did finally open the first box, I wished I hadn't.

I slit the packing tape and folded the flaps back. Sitting on top of a bunch of miscellaneous papers, was the invitation to Eric and Kylie's wedding. I don't think I even looked at the date when I first opened it.

Opening the flap on the envelope, I pulled the invitation out. The wedding was a month ago.

The men in my family don't cry. It just wasn't done, but here I was, sitting on the floor, balling like a child, clutching the invite to me.

*****

Then things got worse.

I'm sure you heard about it on the news. A hurricane passed through Florida. This didn't affect me directly at first. My apartment building suffered some damage, and I heard through the lawyers that my old home with Sarah suffered a bit more.

The real kicker was the real estate project I had invested in with Tony. The development was much closer to the coast and was basically obliterated.

Whether there was any money to be salvaged from it, I'll never know. Between the concessions to Sarah, and the money I owed the lawyers, I was already underwater by hundreds of thousands of dollars. I had no more money to hire lawyers to go after Tony. My existing divorce lawyers were already clamoring for payment on bills I had missed.

To quote Hemmingway, I went bankrupt 'gradually, then suddenly.'

I sold everything I had left. The watches, the golf clubs. I even found a market for the designer shoes Sarah had directed me toward. It wasn't enough of course.

I called my parents, who I hadn't spoken to much in the last few months. I asked if I could come stay with them. The next day, I handed in the key to the apartment I could no longer afford and headed home in the used Honda Civic I had bought a few months ago with the money from selling one of my watches.

The divorce from Sarah was finalized two weeks later. She finally let up on me; there was nothing left to take.

I walked into my parent's home like the proverbial dog with its tail between its legs. To their credit, my parents took me in and didn't criticize. They wanted details about what had happened of course. I really had been bad about talking to them lately. Even when I did call, the last thing I wanted to discuss was my crumbling marriage.

I laid everything out to them. I was their son, so they wanted to take my side on some issues. I shut them down. Was Sarah at fault for some of it? Of course, but I made so many mistakes that hers seemed minor to me now.

*****

I was laying down on my old bed, in what used to be my bedroom. My mother had turned it into her craft room since I moved out over a decade ago. It was mid-afternoon and I had nothing to do, as was usual since I got back. I spent my time going over the last few years.

Basically, I was feeling sorry for myself. I knew it couldn't last, that I had to face the things I'd done and move past them. Maybe I'd start doing that tomorrow.

There was a knock on the door frame. I looked over to see my father standing there.

"Hi dad, what's up?"

"I'm going to sit out on the deck, why don't you join me?"

I really didn't want a pep talk from my father. He viewed his job in the house to be the disciplinarian. It wasn't that he was cruel in that capacity, it just meant that we never got close as I grew up.

"Maybe in a bit."

I didn't want to say 'no' because then he might insist. He tilted his head and gave me 'the look.'

Looks like I'm going to hang out on the deck. Message received. I started getting off the bed. My father stopped in the kitchen while I headed towards the back door.

"Want a beer?" He called from the kitchen.

"No thanks." I hadn't had a drop of alcohol to drink since I got back from Florida.

I sat down on one of the old patio chairs. It was the same set they had since I was a teenager. They took care of it. Covering it up during the winter to make sure it didn't get damaged by the weather. It was clean and comfortable. Why would anyone need anything else?

It made me think of the fifty thousand dollars Sarah and I spent on patio furniture for the house. We did this even though the house came with a perfectly fine set.

My father sat down across from me, but facing toward the back edge of the yard. He cracked opened his beer and took a pull, looking like he was in no hurry to start the conversation I assumed he wanted to have.

After a minute, I adjusted my seat and relaxed back into the chair as well. It was a nice afternoon, might as well enjoy it.

My mind was starting to drift, thinking about yet another one of the catastrophic mistakes I had made over the last couple of years, when my father finally decided to speak.

"So when are you gonna stop hiding?"

"What do you mean, who do you think I'm hiding from?"

He just laughed at me.

He was right. This is where all my friends from my old life still were. I presumed, at least. I had abandoned all of them, so I couldn't be sure.

"You're welcome to stay here as long as you want. You're welcome to keep hiding here if you want. But that's not going to make anything better."

With that, he crushed his beer can, got up and started heading back into the house, calling out before screen door closed, "You sure you don't want a beer?"

"No, thanks though."

He was right of course, but it took me a week to gather up the courage to do anything about it.

*****

I figured I might as well start at the hardest one, everything would be gravy after this, wouldn't it?

I stood on Eric's doorstep on a Wednesday evening. His truck and Kylie's car were in the driveway, so I assumed they were home. I didn't call, text or give any warning that I was coming, or even that I was back in town. I wanted the full brunt of what was coming to me.

I put the odds at about even he would just slam the door in my face.

I rang the doorbell, hearing movement as someone came to the door. I hoped it was him. Somehow a conversation with Kylie felt even more awkward.

The door opened and Eric just stood there staring at me through the glass storm door. He shook his head slightly after a moment, leaned forward and opened the storm door.

"Come in."

He pulled the inside door wider and stepped back to allow me entrance into his home.

I followed him through the living room, into the kitchen and stopped in my tracks. Kylie stood at the stove stirring something in a pot. The look she gave made me happy she wasn't the one that answered the door.

Eric stopped at the fridge, opened it and grabbed a beer. He then looked between me and Kylie, likely wondering what was going to happen next, as was I.

"Hi Kylie."

"Tom."

Eric interrupted, "You want a beer?"

This broke the standoff between Kylie and me, "Uh, no thank you."

"Come on, let's go out on the deck."

I followed Eric toward the door in the kitchen that led to their small deck.

As I got to the door, I looked back over my shoulder. Kylie had turned back to working on the meal she was preparing. It still felt like there was hate radiating off her.

Eric and I sat. He just looked at me passively while I fidgeted for a moment before starting.

Eric was just taking a sip of his beer when I started.

"Look, Eric, I just want to say that I'm re..."

He put his hand up in the universal 'stop' sign as he swallowed. I stopped speaking and waited on him.

"Just tell me what happened."

I was a little confused by this. "What do you mean?"

"I haven't spoken to you in over two years. Tell me everything that happened."

So I did.

It was a disjointed explanation by me, I'm sure. Eric stopped me every once in a while, to ask a clarifying question.

I started with the excesses of the yacht rental, since he didn't go. I told him about the wealthy people we met, and how we tried to keep up with them. About the many trips. About the ridiculous amount of money I spent on watches, even though I preferred my trusty Garmin watch.

The cars, the private jet rentals, because we didn't feel like dealing with regular airport security.

The cases of Pappy Van Winkle I bought, even though I preferred Woodford Reserve at one-twentieth the price.

I told of my alcoholism.

I told of how this led to me being drugged and robbed. I then told of finding the local tennis pro balls deep in Sarah.

I described my blindly investing in a real estate opportunity without consulting Sarah, and how this led to the beginning of the end.

I then told of the divorce and the brutality of it, and the hurricane that put the proverbial nail in the coffin.

I thought dredging everything up would put me in a dour mood, but it had the opposite effect. It felt cathartic to get it all out. To finally admit to someone all my mistakes and stupidity.

It was two hours later when I finally finished, and it was dark. Kylie had come out halfway through my tale to tell Eric that dinner was ready.

It had been ready for a while. I could see through the kitchen window when she had finished preparing. I think she delayed, hoping I wouldn't stay to join them.

Eric had paused my tale, ostensibly to get another beer, but I think he really went in to tell Kylie he would eat later.

Once I had finished, I just leaned back and sighed.

Eric fiddled with his empty beer bottle for a minute before speaking, "Yeah, that's mostly the story I heard, too."

This alarmed me a bit. "Did Sarah call you?"

Eric barked out a laugh at this, "God no."

I waited for the explanation.

"Sarah still talked to some of the girls for a while... and remember Kylie is good friends with Amy's cousin. You and Sarah were always a topic of conversation."

That wasn't shocking. Not much happened in our town. Thinking about all my old friends and acquaintances knowing all about my transgressions made me want to hide even more.

"Well, I guess it's good that she's still talking to her friends." I added, "Better than me at least." Under my breath.

"She's not talking to anyone here anymore, well except her parents. Which is why anyone knows anything from the last year."

"Oh, I didn't know. Even before the divorce started, we really weren't talking that much."

"Yeah, I can imagine."

"Do you know why she stopped talking to the girls?"

Eric pondered this for a moment, before continuing.

"It wasn't one thing... but I think there are only so many phone calls, or Instagram posts about the latest ten-thousand dollar handbag you bought, before folks realize that they no longer have anything in common... especially when the people you are telling are sometimes living paycheck to paycheck."

I immediately thought about how I had called Eric and the rest of the guys to brag after I picked up the McLaren from the dealership.

"I was no better." I whispered.

"No, no you weren't."

I didn't know what to say after that.

We were both silent for what felt like a few minutes, when Eric rose and said, "Well, I need to eat dinner and go to bed. I've got work in the morning."

I rose too but immediately felt deflated. I was glad to get everything out in the open with Eric. I guess I was just hoping for more of a reconciliation, even though I didn't feel like I deserved it.

These thoughts and others quickly passed through my head when Eric continued, "What are you doing this weekend?"

I laughed at this. "HA! Hiding out at my parents' place like I've been doing for the past month."

"Why don't you come by Saturday then? Since it sounds like you don't have anything going on." He smirked at his last comment.

"Ok, sounds good."

I made my way back through their house. Kylie must have gone to bed... or gone to avoid me, as I didn't see her when I walked out the front door.

*****

Saturday came and I was standing on Eric's porch. As he opened the door, I saw his golf bag in his hand as I backed up and he pushed the screen door open.

"Where are we going?"

"Feel like hitting some balls?"

"I don't have any clubs anymore." And I didn't. I sold the three sets of custom clubs I had during the divorce.

"Well, you can hit with mine... if you don't mind slumming it." He smirked as he delivered the line.

I laughed in return, "No, I don't mind."

On the range, it was just a couple of guys hitting balls. Cursing bad shots and occasionally complimenting the good ones.

On the way back to Eric's house, I asked about the guys I used to, and Eric still did, hang out with. He brought me up to speed on how everyone was doing. Some friends had babies. Some had broken up. Some had gotten back together.

When we got back to his place, Eric told me he had chores to do around the house and was then heading out to dinner with Kylie that night. I thanked him and made my way home.

That week I decided it was time to get off my ass and start doing something. I called my old boss, Bob McKenzie, Monday morning. He was surprised to hear from me as he knew about my lottery winning. I gave him a very abbreviated version of what happened and asked if there was anything available at the company.

He laughed and told me he had just gotten rid of his third crew supervisor in the last year. It was the job I used to have, and he said he'd be willing to give me another shot at it if I was interested. I was nervous about saying yes. It had been years since I had done the job, and I told him as much.

He took a little of my anxiety away. "I'll tell you what, why don't you come in tomorrow and I'll have you shadow one of the other supervisors. You remember Colton Milner?"

"Yeah, of course. He was on my crew."

"Well, he's supervising now. Come shadow him, I'm sure it will come back to you. Decide if you want the job at the end of the week. If you're still uncomfortable, I'll stick you on one of the crews."

It was way more than I could have hoped for. I thought I'd be lucky to get a job on one of the crews. Here he was, offering me my old job back.

I got up at five the next morning and started the next chapter in my new, new life.

A few pieces of equipment changed, as well as a few procedures, but most of it was familiar. I felt fairly comfortable by the end of the week, so I told Bob I would take the supervisor job.

That weekend Eric invited me to hit some balls and play 9 holes at an executive course the next town over. I pointed out that I didn't have any clubs, he told me I could borrow his old set as he finally bought a new set last year.

At one point, I tried to bring up what I'd done to him. I wanted to explain how sorry I was. He shut me down again.

When we got back to his house, he told me to hold on to his old set of clubs for now, in case I wanted to hit some balls after work.

*****

After the first week in my new/old job as a crew supervisor, I thought I had made a mistake taking the position. Most on the crew had heard of me and knew my story. The lack of respect was apparent. I was facing an uphill battle.

I needed the job, and I whether Bob thought so or not, I still felt I needed to prove myself. I wanted to lash out at them. They had no idea how miserable winning the lottery had made me - was still making me, apparently.

Luckily, I calmed myself down. Going back at them would just embolden them more.

For the next week I ignored the taunts. When they saw it wasn't having the desired effect, they would occasionally just decide not to work. They would take a break and stare at their phones. I would just pick up their work where they left off, completing their tasks myself.

This got under their skin and made me laugh to myself that trying to enrage me was having the opposite effect.

I also was able to identify where the problem originated.

Kyle and Taylor. Kyle was a little younger than me, Taylor a little older. They were the type that resented authority. The type that thought they knew better but never wanted to put the work in to put themselves in a position of authority. Content to be lazy and complain.

Having me as a boss opened a new angle for them. Instead of just complaining, they could try and torment me. Making themselves feel better by feeling they were 'winning' against me.

I had this epiphany while talking the issues through with Eric at the driving range. He had worked construction in the past and knew the type. He was wondering why we didn't just fire them. I reminded him how hard it was to get workers these days, good or otherwise.

Monday morning, I went in early to speak with Bob.

Once in his office, I explained the dilemma. I explained how Kyle and Taylor were feeding off each other. I then asked if I could switch one of them with someone on another crew. I was apologetic, as I knew I was asking another crew to take on a problem.

Bob looked thoughtful for a moment and then asked his assistant to have John Sterling paged.

"I think I have a solution to your problem." Bob said, as I heard the message for John to report to the office go out of the PA. When he didn't expand, I just waited for John to arrive.

John started after I had left the company, and I had never formally met him. When he came into the office, Bob let me explain my dilemma and my hopeful solution. I also put in an apology for asking him to take on either Kyle or Taylor.

"I get it, I'm happy to help, but who do you want in exchange?"

I really didn't know anyone on his crew, so I was about to ask him who he was willing to give up when Bob chimed in, "I was thinking you could lend him Mike Kantor for a couple of weeks, John."

He had a gleam in his eyes and a slight smirk when he said it. John just started laughing, which Bob joined in on. I was about to ask what the joke was that I was missing when John turned to me, "So who do you want to trade?"

"Oh, doesn't matter to me. They're equally useless at this point."

Bob looked at John, "John, tell Mike he's switching with Taylor. Tell him why and tell him it's only for a couple of weeks but also tell him to keep that info to himself."

John smiled, "Will do." Then headed out of the office.

Bob turned to me, still with a smile on his face, "Your problems will be solved shortly."

He didn't seem like he was going to elaborate, so I thanked him and left.

When my crew assembled that morning, I started to understand the joke. Mike Kantor walked up and introduced himself to me. He easily stood at six foot five and weighed at least two hundred and forty pounds. If any of that weight was fat, I couldn't see it.

The intimidation factor was only a small portion of what Mike brought. It was his work ethic that really turned things around. I never considered myself a lazy worker - my work ethic was what got me promoted - but working with Mike made me reevaluate what a hard day of work really was.

I learned later that he was paid more than some of the supervisors, a job he had no interest in himself.

When I asked him about it once, he said he thought it might make him 'soft.'

Yeah, right.

Kyle tried to push his buttons on the second day. Mike simply walked over to him and asked him quietly to repeat himself. Luckily, Kyle recognized it as a battle he wouldn't win and backed down.

Within two weeks, we were accomplishing twice the work we had before Mike joined the crew. By the end of the month, it was two and a half times.

The great thing about our company was that they wrote in bonuses to almost all their contracts. If we finished ahead of schedule, the company got a bonus, some of which was passed on to the crew that worked the job.

After the first bonus the crew received, there was never any question of them going back to their old ways.

Mike went back to Colton's crew as promised, and Sam joined our crew in return. While Colton said that Taylor had, 'learned the error of his ways,' we both agreed it would be better if we didn't reunite him with Kyle.

*****

What I would describe as a minor victory at work, had a major impact on my mental health. For the first time in a long time, I finally started to feel some self-worth again.

Another step on the journey was finding a place of my own. I was on a tight budget. I would be making payments to my creditors after the bankruptcy for the unforeseeable future, which limited what I could afford.

I settled on renting a trailer. It was newer and I could tell when I drove around the park that most of the folks took pride in trying to keep the place nice.

When they asked me to fill out a credit report though, I thought I was screwed. I told them I would fill it out, but that they wouldn't like what they saw. I thought that would be the end of it, but when they asked why. I told them the truth. They had heard of me. I mean, how many towns have a lottery winner? They asked if I could provide a cosigner, since my credit was worthless after the bankruptcy. I went to my father, and he agreed to cosign for me.

A week later I moved into my trailer.

There are those that would not look at this as a win. For me it was cathartic. Another step toward regaining my sense of self-worth. I budgeted out everything. I had enough money for my rent, groceries, utilities, etc. Most importantly, I had enough to make my monthly restitution payment and to save a little.

The Monday after I moved in, I came home from work, took a shower and headed out through the sliding screen door at the back of the trailer to the tiny deck. It was big enough for a couple of chairs with a small table between them. I cracked a beer and sat down.

I quit drinking cold turkey when I came home. After a while I decided allowing myself a beer or two was fine. I kept it to that and cut out the hard liquor completely.

I listened to the sounds of the children playing in different areas of the park. A sense of contentment came over me which eventually led to some confusion. I never felt this content sitting on the enormous veranda outside our mansion in Florida.

I didn't want to ruin the feeling by dwelling in the past, so I just stayed in the moment.

*****

The following weekend I played golf with Eric again. This time he invited me to have a beer afterward with him on the deck, which suited me just fine.

Spending time with him again had been good. It helped settle me after my return, but we still hadn't spoken about what happened, and it was eating at me.

Sitting down at the table on his deck, I asked, "Where's Kylie?"

"She's at a movie with her sister."

I nodded my head at this information and took a sip of my beer. I honestly didn't know where to start. Trying to sort everything I wanted to say was a lost cause. I decided to just plow right in.

"That first night I stopped by, you kind of brushed past the apology I was trying to give."

Eric looked at me curiously.

"That doesn't sit well with me... because I think I have a lot to apologize for. So much that every time I think about it, I find something new I did that was shitty.

Don't get me wrong... I'm so happy that we're spending time together, it's just... I guess I just don't feel it's right. You deserve an apology... and then some."

Eric smirked at my comment, took a sip of his beer, and replied, "I knew you were sorry that night when I opened the door. It was written all over your face."

"Yeah, but I feel I still need to say it... I'm sorry. For everything." No point in stopping now. "The things I did... or didn't do... I'm just... I'm a piece of shit, and I'm sorry."

Eric put his beer down and stared at me.

"Is that what you think? That you're a piece of shit?"

"You don't?"

"No... I think you did some shitty things... and that's why I've just been asking you to hang out. To see if my friend was back."

I looked at him, not getting at first where he was going.

Eric continued, "You could have apologized the entire time we sat out here that night, but it wouldn't have meant a damn thing if you weren't back to being the friend I always knew."

"So these last few weeks were a test?"

"I wouldn't put it that way, that sounds too calculated... I just wanted to hang out and see how things went."

"... and?"

"And what?"

I was starting to get a little exasperated. He said it wasn't a test, but it felt like one to me, and I wanted to know if I passed.

"How do you think things went?" I added just to annoy him a bit, "Did I pass?"

"I told you it wasn't a test, dick."

I smiled, "Yeah, but how do you think things went?"

"I think, for the most part, my friend is back... I mean you have to stop moping around like a beaten puppy, but for the most part, I think you're back to being you."

The beaten puppy comment hurt a bit, probably because it hit close to home. I had to stop feeling sorry for myself. It was my mess, time to clean it up.

"Now who's being the dick... although you're right... I just, well there's a long line of people I feel like I have to make amends to... it's a bit overwhelming sometimes."

Eric nodded and took another sip of his beer.

"Speaking of which, I'm certain Kylie hates me... any advice on that front?"

Eric thought for a moment, "Kylie doesn't hate you... she hates how much you hurt me."

I needed to hear it. Doesn't mean it didn't feel like a kick in the gut and the kidney at the same time.

Probably sensing my shock, Eric continued, "I wouldn't worry about it though. She'll come around."

I wasn't so sure, but I let it be.

*****

Life went on.

Over the next year, I was slowly able to reconnect with most of my old friends. I'm sure Eric had a lot to do with it, though he would never admit anything.

Even Kylie slowly came around. Her outright hostility gradually morphing into what I described to Eric as 'cautiously optimistic.' It made Eric laugh and he said it was a spot-on observation.

A sense of normalcy had returned.

I would still sit on my little deck and get lonely though. Mostly thinking about Sarah, and what we had before the lottery debacle.

Some people spend their whole lives looking for their special person. I had found mine and then destroyed what we had.

I told Eric this once and he told me we both destroyed it by being the unluckiest, lucky people in the world.

Not long after this, Eric decided that I needed to get back into the dating game. I firmly refused.

Sarah had been my high school sweetheart. It had been more than fifteen years since I had dated anyone. The thought of it terrified me.

This didn't deter him in the slightest. After a few months even Kylie got in on it.

It was a beautiful summer evening one Saturday. There were three couples and me sitting around the table on Eric and Kylie's deck. We had finished the dinner they made and were having a good time when the conversation turned toward me and my lack of a dating life.

Eric and Kylie mostly remained silent, which was unlike them, as I tried to extricate myself from the conversation. I was steadfast in my refusal of any offers to be set up. I took my shot. I had my chance, and I blew it. That's what I told them at least.

After everyone had left, I helped Kylie and Eric clean up. I was getting ready to say my goodbyes in the kitchen when Eric asked me, "Why do you keep pushing away everyone when they try to set you up?"

"I'm just not interested... I mean, I'm in a good place right now. Which is amazing given everything that's happened. Why would I want to go fuck that up?"

"Because you're lonely."

I wanted to lie, to tell him I wasn't.

"What makes you think I'm lonely?"

Eric laughed. "How long have I known you? You can put on your brave face around the rest of them, but I know you... you're lonely."

I huffed.

Eric waited.

My frustration rose to the surface. I replied more forcefully than I meant to.

"I'm divorced, living in a trailer park. I'm a hundred and fifty thousand dollars in debt, which if I'm lucky, I'll be able to pay off right before I retire... and I already found the love of my life once... it won't happen again."

Eric smirked at my outburst, which didn't help my mood.

"Done feeling sorry for yourself?"

"Fuck off." I went to leave. Kylie, who had been washing the dishes, turned to watch our exchange.

Eric, softened his tone, "Come on, don't leave... sit down."

I sat back down and sulked into the chair, immediately becoming even more annoyed because I knew I was acting like a toddler.

I shifted in the seat, trying to look less toddler-like while I waited for Eric to start whatever speech he was going to give me.

"Is there a rule someplace that says you can only meet and fall in love with one person?"

"You know how long it's been since I dated. I wouldn't even know what to do."

"So you'd rather just be alone in that trailer for the rest of your life than put yourself out there?"

"That's not what I'm saying... I'm just, I'm not ready yet."

Eric chewed on this for a moment. Kylie still seemed to be passively listening, which was unusual, she normally would just ignore our banter.

"Ok, I get that... but do you think it's going to get easier as you get older?"

I wracked my brain for an argument to that point. Not coming up with one, I knew I could just sit on my 'not ready yet' comment.

"No... it probably won't be easier."

I think he could tell how unhappy the conversation was making me and moved on to discussing a golf outing he was trying to get me to sign up for. I wanted to go, but the one-hundred-and-fifty-dollar entry fee was steep for someone on a budget like me. I asked for some more time to think about it.

*****

I ended up passing on the golf outing as I still had only a few hundred dollars saved and I didn't want to raid a chunk of it.

Eric didn't bring up the dating issue again for a few weeks. The rest of our friend group had left me alone as well and I was starting to relax.

I would still sit out on the little deck of my trailer with a beer most evenings and silently pine for some companionship. The fear of trying to date, of rejection, of rejecting someone else if they weren't right for me, it all weighed on me. Helping me decide that being lonely was safer.

If you've ever been lonely, you know how easy it is to convince yourself of things. I'm not talking about the 'home on a Saturday night with nothing to do' lonely. I'm talking about the oppressive, weight on your chest loneliness. The kind that pulls the air from your lungs and mutes all the colors in your life.

That was the kind of loneliness I felt. Like any good, stubborn Irishman, I dug my heels in. I would beat loneliness... by continuing to be lonely.

It makes no sense, I know. Again, amazing what you can talk yourself into when your only sounding board is you.

I wouldn't talk to my friends about it, they would have cogent arguments about why I'm being stupid.

Kylie, of all people, would be the one to yank me back to reality.

*****

I knocked on Eric and Kylie's door. I still knocked. Back in the day, I would just walk in if I was expected. The thought made me smile, even if it was a little sad. I would probably have still stopped walking in once they got married anyway.

Kylie opened the door and broke me out of thought.

"Hi Tom, come on in."

"Hi Kylie, where's Eric?" His truck wasn't in the driveway.

"I needed some ingredients for dinner, so he went out to get them. He should be back any minute."

That was fine, our tee time wasn't for another hour.

I walked behind Kylie into the kitchen, asking about what she was making. Two cutting boards were on the counter with various vegetables in different states of prep.

Kylie had gone silent after explaining dinner, and I was about to ask her another question when she changed gears on me.

"What are you doing next Saturday?"

Most of our friend group had coupled off and would have one another over regularly on the weekends. I just assumed Kylie and Eric were planning on having people over.

"Well, hopefully some golf with Eric, other than that, no plans."

There was a pause from Kylie, out of character given where I thought the conversation was headed. She pulled in her breath as if ready to get a weight off her chest.

"Good... I'd like you to come over and meet a friend of mine."

Fuck.

I walked right into it.

Kylie was asking. I felt set up and my anger flared. I tamped it down.

I deflated. They had played the game and won, knowing I wouldn't say no to Kylie.

I let out a huff.

"Who is she?"

Kylie seemed to read all these emotions, finally sensing I was resigned to this, and she relaxed.

"It's actually a he."

The look on my face must have been everything she hoped for as she burst out laughing.

"Sorry, but you looked way too serious; I needed to lighten the mood."

I laughed with her, and it did lighten the mood.

She went on to describe a coworker she had become very friendly with over the past year. I was expecting the normal superlatives that always seemed to be attached to someone with whom you are being set up.

Instead, Kylie laid out the facts. Liz was a couple of years younger than I was, divorced, and had a four-year-old girl.

I know it's shallow of me, but alarm bells started going off. I felt like I was barely able to keep my life together. How was I going to try and pretend I felt like an adult in front of someone else's kid? How was I going to deal with a man from her past coming in and out of our lives to pick up his daughter?

Kylie knew what I was thinking. Even though I'm sure the concern was plastered all over my face, it didn't take a genius to know I'd be worried about these things.

"The father is no longer in the picture."

My eyebrows quirked up at this. My imagination ran... was he in jail?

"Her ex is Greek. She thinks he was using her to get citizenship. After her daughter Hannah was born, he only stuck around for six months before he left. Liz assumes he went back to Greece, but he didn't even leave a note, so who knows... but that was more than three years ago."

Still, visions of a happy life being shattered by the father coming back into their lives danced in my head, even though I knew it was far-fetched. Kylie let me stew in my thoughts for a few moments.

I wanted to lash out, to tell her she was crazy. I could barely take care of myself, and she want me to go on a date with someone that has a child?

My thoughts dissipated as quickly as they came. She wasn't asking me to marry her and adopt her daughter, just meet her.

Also, it was Kylie. I still felt like I owed her. First for how protective she was of Eric when I came back in their lives, then with how she subtly tried to steer me straight with all the issues I had... still have.

I was still looking at the floor, and whispered, "Ok."

"Ok?" Kylie asked, as if she didn't hear me... at least not correctly.

"Yeah, ok. I'll meet her."

Kylie looked at me with a suspicious smirk. I could tell what she was thinking, "I swear, I'll give it my best shot, but please promise you won't be mad at me if it doesn't work out."

"That's all I ask." Kylie leaned over me and gave me a quick peck on my forehead. It felt very motherly and immediately annoyed me... mainly because I still felt like a child.

Eric came home shortly after, and I tried to give him my most intimidating stare for setting me up. It didn't work of course.

Later, on the golf course, I tried to lay into him, which he laughed off, annoying me further.

"Stop sulking. You come over next weekend and meet Liz. If it goes somewhere, great! If it doesn't, no worries... at least you gave it a shot. You need to break the dam and get back out there.

I'm not sulking.

I looked down at myself in the cart. Slouched down, arms crossed. Fuck, I am sulking.

*****

Saturday came much too quickly. I felt an even amount of anticipation and dread. I even texted Eric to find out what I should wear. I assume he knows how nervous I am, because he didn't even make fun of me. Just told me he was wearing shorts and a polo and that it was too hot to dress up.

That made me relax some. I really didn't have much to dress up in anyway. It was pretty much work clothes and golf clothes. Anything expensive I had from my former life, I tried to sell to pay down the bills.

On the ride over to Eric's house, I resolved on one outcome I wanted: A nice, easy letdown. I would be polite and respectful to Liz but also be gentle if I got the chance to explain why it wouldn't work... which was the only possible outcome I could see.

When I got to Eric's, there was a Honda CUV I didn't recognize in the driveway. Walking past I saw the child seat in the back. Liz must already be here.

I knocked on the door, my nerves already starting to play up. Eric answered quickly and invited me in. We walked toward his kitchen and the conversation there stopped.

Kylie stood holding a glass of white wine, a small smirk on her face. Liz stood next to her holding her own glass.

She was shorter than Kylie, I was guessing around five-foot-two. She had dark blond hair cut in a shoulder length bob. She wore small rectangular glasses and a light-blue sundress.

My mouth went dry; it felt as if I lost the power of speech. All my fears of trying to speak to a possible romantic interest swirling in my head.

It felt like an eternity but was probably only a second that I stood there. I tamped my fears down, rebooted my brain and stepped forward. I gave Kylie a quick hug, "Hi Kylie." I pulled back and turned to Liz, putting my hand out, "... and you must be Liz. Nice to meet you."

"Hi Tom, nice to meet you as well."

She took my hand and gave it one shake before pulling back. It felt so soft.

Kylie spoke up, "Let's go out on the deck."

I helped bring out the appetizers, then took a seat. Kylie and Liz headed inside for a few more snacks and a bottle of wine.

I stole another look at Liz as she exited, and a thought occurred to me: Liz was adorable. Petite with just the right amount of curve, except for her breasts. I'm no expert on cup size, but I estimated they were about a C cup. Her sundress was conservative but couldn't hide the beginnings of her cleavage.

I tried to figure out if this was disappointing or not. If she was unattractive, I could just tell Kylie and Eric and that would hopefully be the end of it.

The conversation, at least from me, was tentative at first. Not surprising given how self-conscious I was.

By the time the main course was finished, my anxiety was gone. The conversation was easy and I found I was enjoying myself. I started noticing little mannerisms Liz had. A brush of hair behind her ear, the way she tilted her head when questioning what one of us was saying. I found all these little moments endearing.

While we were eating the sorbet Kylie served as dessert, the realization that I had a new problem hit me: I was interested in Liz. That outcome hadn't previously occurred to me, so the idea of asking for her number, or asking her out on a date had not been part of the equation. My anxiety flared up again.

I hadn't asked anyone on a date since high school.

The thought of how to tackle this problem was still rolling around in my head when Kylie and Eric got up to clear the table, refusing any help from Liz or me.

I was lost in these thoughts when Liz started speaking.

"It was great to meet you, Tom."

I was about to agree, thinking this would segway into a conversation on meeting up again.

"... but I don't think this will work. I'm hoping they told you I have a child."

"Umm, yeah. They mentioned it." I tried not to let the disappointment that was starting to take hold, show.

"They said you wouldn't mind that they told me some of your past. I'm sure with everything you've gone through, you don't want to be saddled with my baggage."

I couldn't get my brain to switch gears fast enough, to protest that I didn't think she had 'baggage.' I was too slow.

"So, I think it's best if we separately tell them it won't work. That way, we're both off the hook."

I found my mouth betraying me, agreeing that was the best course of action.

She smiled. It was a beautiful smile.

Eric and Kylie reemerged, putting an end to the conversation.

Liz said her goodbyes not long after. She had to pick up her daughter, who I learned was named Hannah.

She had barely pulled out of the driveway, Kylie and Eric were looking at me expectantly.

I was still a bit dumfounded by what had happened.

"Well, what did you think!?"

I turned to face Kylie, "Huh? Oh... umm, I don't think it will work."

Disappointment and maybe even a hint of anger crossed her face, "What, why?"

Why? Because I think she's adorable and sweet, so there's no way she'd be interested in me.

That wouldn't fly and I hadn't thought through what to say to Kylie's obvious question.

My brain quickly came up with the standard answer, "There was just no spark." I then decided to add, "Ask her too, I bet she says the same thing." Kylie eyed me suspiciously but turned back to the dishes after a moment and let the topic drop.

*****

I opened the door to my trailer and stopped in the doorway. The emptiness was oppressive. I threw the keys on the old coffee table sat on the couch, turning on the tv.

The sound of the newsman droning on about the latest catastrophe assaulted my ears and I instantly regretted turning it on.

I turned the tv and the living room lights off and headed to the bathroom where I aimlessly brushed my teeth. I headed into my room, took off my clothes and plopped down into bed.

I stared at the ceiling for a few moments, wondering if I should close the window and turn on my window air conditioner due to the heat. The soft, soothing sounds of nighttime that drifted through the window drove the thought from my mind.

I can't say how long I laid there before I finally fell asleep, but it was nearly nine am when I woke. An unheard-of time for someone who is normally awake at five a. m.

On Sunday, I tried to use my chores as a distraction. I realized I was failing when I noticed I had put softener in the washing machine where the detergent should go.

I couldn't stop the previous evening playing through my head. The rational part of my brain kept telling me how stupid this was. The more I thought, the more of an effect Liz seemed to have on me.

It was because she rejected me. We always want what we can't have. I told my brain this was the reason and tried to move on with my day.

*****

I was successful for most of the week. She still entered my thoughts, but I kept telling myself it was because she was the first girl to come along since the divorce. I was lonely, and I knew it. My emotions were trying to make her a good fit.

Thursday night I had a dream I went to Liz's house and met her daughter. She invited me to sit and play with her, telling me stories about her stuffed animals.

I jerked awake as the dream came to a close.

The disappointment I felt was shocking. Not at the dream itself, but because it ended.

I was happy in that dream.

The lack of sleep after that made work the following day a chore. Keeping Liz out of my thoughts, even more so. Thank goodness it was Friday.

Saturday came and I had my regular tee time with Eric. I struggled with whether I should bring Liz up when Eric did it for me. We had just finished the second hole and were in the cart heading to the next tee box.

"Oh yeah, Kylie told me she talked to Liz... she said something similar to you, I think. That there wasn't a connection, or something like that.

"So you're off the hook, which is good, because Kylie was a little pissed."

"Yeah, I could tell." I replied flatly.

To this day, I'll never understand why I started talking after that. It just wasn't something I did... or any guy I knew did. You kept your emotions bottled up. You didn't blurt them out like some drunken confession in a terrible rom-com.

But that's exactly what I did. At least that's how I saw it after I cringed about it later that night in bed.

"So, about Liz..." I said tentatively.

"Yeah?" Eric was pulling up to the next tee box and got out of the cart to grab his driver. Seemingly only half-paying attention to me.

"I think I like her."

"Huh?" He looked over his shoulder at me as he was walking on to the tee box, appearing to not comprehend what I was saying.

"I mean, I think I'm interested in her... in dating her... or whatever."

Finally comprehending me, he turned and furrowed his brow at me.

"What do you mean you're interested? What was all that shit at the house about 'no spark' or whatever?"

I didn't really have an answer ready and looked down at my shoes.

I wasn't making sense to Eric, so he continued, "What's going on man?"

I met his gaze, "I don't know... I just, I keep thinking about her. I'm sure it's just because she's the only girl I've met since the divorce, but I can't get her out of my head."

"So you didn't think there was a spark and now you do?"

"No, no... it's not that..." I really hadn't thought this through. Why did I start this conversation?

"You're not making sense."

He was right. I tried to lay out for him what I knew.

I told him how my plan was to come over for dinner, knowing there would be nothing there. I would politely tell him and Kylie that I didn't feel anything and that would be the end of it.

I then explained how my plans were derailed by how adorable she was and how interesting I found her. I modified my plan to see if she were interested in going on date and told of how I was derailed again by her telling me it wouldn't work and how we should each tell him and Kylie as much.

I then went on to describe how I couldn't get her out of my head.

Thankfully I did not mention the dream.

I finished my verbal diarrhea just as the twosome behind us drove up to the tee box. Eric and I both looked up and realized we were behind and should have hit our shots already.

We made our apologies and quickly teed off. Eric hit a decent shot, but I sliced mine dramatically into the woods.

I mumbled another apology to the guys behind us and said I would hit from where Eric's ball landed as not to take up more time.

My subsequent shots were no better. I ended up picking up my ball and giving up on the hole while we quickened our pace to catch back up to the group in front of us.

Finally caught back up and in the cart waiting for the group ahead to move enough for us to hit, Eric resumed the conversation.

"Ok, so now you're interested... you sure it's not because she isn't?"

A fair question, one I thought of myself.

"I don't think so... I had changed my mind before she said anything. I was actually working up the courage to ask her on a date when she told me."

"Brutal." He furrowed his brow, as if he was able to view the scene as it occurred.

"Yeah, I know... so what do you think I should do now?"

"I don't know... did she say why she wasn't interested?"

"Umm... yeah, she mentioned her daughter and how I wouldn't want that baggage."

Eric looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Maybe she was just testing you, seeing how you'd react, see if you minded that she has a kid...

... or I don't know, maybe she's scared of your baggage. I know Kylie told her about your past. She didn't want to keep any secrets."

I didn't want any secrets kept either.

"Ok... so? What do you think I should do?"

"I don't know, why don't you just try calling her? Tell her you're interested and see what she says." He shrugged his shoulders as he said it.

"That's it?"

"Look man, I'm not a setup artist. If I was, I'd be making a shit-ton more than I am now.

Just be honest and direct... if it works, great. If it doesn't, you can't look back and say you didn't take your shot."

He was right of course. I was hoping for a route that involved less risk of me putting my foot in my mouth, but direct was best.

When we got back to his house after our round, I confessed everything to Kylie. She seemed a bit annoyed at first, but that dissolved into smugness as she stated she knew I would like her.

Kylie agreed with Eric, that giving her a call and just being honest would be the best approach. She said she would ask Liz if it was ok to give me her number on Monday at work.

Now I had a few days of anxiety wondering how that conversation would go.

*****

Monday evening, Kylie called and gave me Liz's number.

When I asked how the conversation went, she demurred, saying I would overthink everything she said, and it was better to just call Liz.

Why did everyone seem to know me better than I knew myself?

I waited until Wednesday to call. Mostly because I couldn't think of what to say. I still hadn't come up with anything, but I assumed that if I could convince her to go out with me, she would need time to find someone to watch Hannah.

I dialed her number. Thoughts of interrupting her while she was making dinner entered my mind.

Stop. Stop overthinking.

She picked up on the third ring.

"Hi Tom."

"Oh... umm, Hi Liz... ah, how did you know it was me?" Great, off balance right from the start.

"Kylie gave me your number so I would know it was you calling. I don't pick up the phone if I don't know the number... she didn't tell you?"

"Ah, no... she didn't mention it... anyway, I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

"No, just making some dinner for me and Hannah."

Shit.

"Oh, I'm sorry, should I call back later?"

There was a soft giggle, and she answered, "No, no, I can multitask."

Ok, time to man up and dive in.

"Oh, ok... well, umm, I know we agreed that it probably wouldn't work between us... but I was wondering if maybe we could rethink that stance? I mean, I was wondering if you'd let me take you out sometime?"

There was silence on the other end, for what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a second. I could feel the rejection sentence being put together on the other end of the phone. The puzzle pieces of repudiation snapping together perfectly.

"Ok Tom, when did you have in mind?"

That old trope, where the character continues on like the other character had said something completely different, didn't happen.

But it was close.

"Well, if it's not too late for you to find someone to watch Hannah, I was wondering if you were free this Saturday?"

"Let me talk to my mom and see if she minds watching her and I'll get back to you. Sound good?"

"Sounds great, I'll wait to hear from you." I finally let out the breath I felt like I was holding since I hit dial on her number.

"Ok, good night, Tom."

"Good night, Liz."

I received a text about a half hour later.

My mom said she can watch Hannah. What time were you thinking?

7 o'clock sound ok? Also, is it ok if I pick you up?

7 o'clock sounds good, I'll text you my address.

Great, any preference for where we eat?

Your choice.

Sounds good, see you Saturday!

*****

Luckily, work was very busy for the rest of the week. It kept me from overthinking.

Saturday was a different story. Why it took me until Saturday to realize I had nothing to wear on a date is beyond me.

I had to drive about forty-five minutes to one of the few malls still open. This one looked like it was doing ok. I hadn't been to it since before Sarah and I won the lottery. There were a few empty spaces for stores, and the décor was still from the nineties. But it was clean and had a fairly good crowd.

After browsing through three different stores, I realized I was in trouble. The last shopping I did for nice clothes was after we won the lottery. It was going to small shops, being measured and fitted, being told by the staff, or Sarah, that this is what you should wear, and how to wear it.

I was lost, so I pulled out my phone and dialed Kylie to beg for help.

An hour of sporadic facetiming later and I had an outfit picked out that didn't break my budget.

I drove home and went about doing chores to keep myself occupied until it was time to get ready.

*****

I pulled down the nicely wooded lane in one of the nicer, older developments in town. I loved these areas, the trees fully grown in, the lived-in feel, as opposed to the sterile cookie-cutter homes with a single sapling planted in the front yard. The sun getting ready to set added to the ambiance as the gold colors flittered through the leaves on the trees.

I saw the number I was searching for on the mailbox and pulled into the driveway of a lovely brick, split-level home. My nerves started to act up, which I assumed was normal for any first date, regardless of one's history.

As I started up the steps, the door opened, and Liz quickly squeezed through before closing it behind her and walking past me down steps as I was walking up them.

She squeaked out, "Hi Tom, ready to go?" as she walked past.

"Umm, sure."

I turned to catch up with her, as she was halfway to my car already, wondering if I had missed something.

I was able to admire her from behind and only for a moment as she got in my car. She wore another sundress, and it did not disappoint. Watching her hips sway back and forth, framing what appeared to be, a very nice ass, moved her from adorable to sexy in my eyes.

Liz hopped in my car, and I followed suit. As I started backing out of the driveway, I said, "You look lovely."

And she did. But her attention was still on her house as we backed out. I stole a glance as I shifted into drive and pulled away. She visibly relaxed and finally responded, "Thank you Tom. So where are we headed for dinner?"

"I thought Italian would be a safe option."

"Sounds good, I love Italian."

It wasn't the fanciest place in town, but the pasta was homemade and tasty, and you never left hungry.

Once we were seated, I decided to dive in, "Mind if I ask you a question?"

"I think questions are appropriate given the circumstances." She replied with a soft smile.

"Good point... so I noticed you seemed a little tense when we left your house, everything ok?... and if it's none of my business, just say so."

She gave a wry chuckle, and shook her head, "No it's fine... it's just... my mother is babysitting Hannah tonight."

I nodded my head in acknowledgement and let her continue.

"Well, she can be a bit... intrusive... at times."

"Okay." I wasn't quite sure what she was implying.

"She's been after me to start dating for a while now. She's rather old-school and thinks I should have a man around the house. I've just been concentrating on work and Hannah these last few years."

I nodded again, starting to see where the conversation was going.

"I never ask her to watch Hannah on short notice, so she knew something was up and pestered me about where I was going. While I didn't want the headache, I wasn't going to lie to her, so I told her I was going on a date."

The last part brought a smile to my face, feeling lucky that I was the one sitting across from her.

"When she heard that, she went overboard..." Liz took on a nasally tone, in what I assume was an attempt to mimic her mother.

"... Oh! Well, I'll cook, invite him over so I can meet him... yada, yada.

I had to explain to her that wasn't appropriate for a first date. She kept going on about wanting to meet you.

"Regardless of whether this goes anywhere or not, I did not want to subject you to my mother on a first date."

I barked out a laugh, "Well I appreciate that... but I'm sure she means well."

She turned a little more serious, "If you mean she'd have you looking at wedding venues right now if you had met her, then sure, she means well."

"That bad?"

"Yeah, that bad." She then lightened up a bit. "You're right though, she is looking out for me... in her way... it's just her way and my way don't normally coincide.

But she's been supportive, and she's great with Hannah. So I can only complain a little."

The waiter came over for our drink order. We jointly decided on a bottle of red and perused the menus.

The evening progressed and I asked her questions about Hannah, which I could tell she enjoyed answering. Liz in turn asked about the winning the lottery and what it was like.

I answered honestly, telling her how out of sorts I felt during much of it. I didn't go into graphic detail, especially about the falling out between me and Sarah, but I didn't pull any punches either. I told her how unprepared I was for it, and how honestly, I was happier before we won.

The human side of it seemed to fascinate Liz. In hindsight it fascinated me too. The way I looked at money before and after winning the lottery was an interesting topic. Especially when compared to how the people we met in Florida, most of whom had money for as long as they could remember, viewed it.

I'm sure there have been books written on the topic. Not that they would interest me. I had lived it.

As dinner came to a close, we shared a dessert. While attacking the tiramisu from both sides, I assumed Liz could read my intentions of asking her on another date, because after her first bite she asked, "So what do you want out of this?"

I was not prepared for the question, so I looked up and past her for a moment as I framed my response.

"I'm just looking to get to know you better..."

Liz looked ready to respond, but I wasn't finished, just sorting the words in my head, so I continued.

"Look, I'll be honest. Before the lottery, I enjoyed being married. I enjoyed having someone to share my life with... so would I want that again? Of course. But saying I want that after one date would be putting expectations on this that I don't have.

Right now, I'm just happy to be sharing dinner with a beautiful woman that I'm getting to know.

If anything else comes of it, great. If not, I still think we had a nice dinner... at least I did... and if you're up for it, I'd like to do it again."

She gave me a suspicious look, which I found a bit unnerving. I thought I gave an honest, heartfelt answer.

She smirked and said, "That answer was almost too good, did you have that prepared?"

I was mid-bite when she said it, and I had to surpass my laugh, lest I launch tiramisu all over her dress.

I finished chewing and swallowed before continuing. "Honestly, I was not expecting that question and was a little panicked by it! I was also a little worried..."

As soon as the last statement left my mouth I wished I could take it back.

"What were you worried about?"

Shit. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound.

"I guess I was worried about how honest I was about my previous marriage... I just... I guess I don't want to ever pretend that it wasn't great back then... but I've heard that doesn't sit well with some people. Especially when you're trying to date them."

Liz looked thoughtful for a moment, while I started to panic that I may have just torpedoed my chances.

She allayed my fears when she responded.

"Honesty is crucial to me. I'm sure Kylie told you a little of my backstory, and I've told you some more tonight. My ex was less than honest with me about a lot of things."

I nodded in agreement, having heard Eric and Kylie's stories about him.

"It's obvious we both have some baggage... so being honest should make it easier to carry."

I smiled at her response. "Now who sounds rehearsed?"

She laughed and whatever tension there was in the conversation evaporated.

We agreed to go on another date the following Saturday. Liz said she knew her mother would agree.

*****

Dinner the following week was just as pleasant.

The soft kiss on the lips I received in the car when dropping Liz back at her house, even more so.

The following weekend Liz had a family function on Saturday and a child's birthday party that Hannah had been invited to on Sunday. She seemed frazzled just describing everything she had to get done between the two, so we agreed to go out the week after.

We started texting each other more during the week after the second date. The week leading up to our third date sounded rough. They had moved up a deadline for a project she had been working on, so she put in some long days. Her mother had to pick up Hannah from daycare for her most of the week.

I asked Liz if she wanted to skip our planned date so she could relax. She laughed, stating that keeping a four-year-old entertained was not very relaxing. I could tell she immediately felt bad saying it, as she followed up by declaring how much she enjoyed spending time with Hannah, but that she also enjoyed the downtime of our dates.

Based on this, instead of another restaurant, I asked if she would like to go to the movies instead. They had opened one of those dine-in theaters a few towns over and I thought just being able to have a meal and a movie would give her a chance to wind down a bit.

Liz loved the idea and really seemed to enjoy herself as she had never been to a dine-in theater before.

I was rewarded with a slightly longer kiss on the lips when I dropped her off. No tongue, but I think we were both comfortable with taking things slow.

*****

We discussed getting together the following weekend as well, but had not made any firm plans yet. I was surprised when I saw it was Liz calling me on Wednesday evening, as we generally only texted during the week.

"Hi Liz."

"Hi Tom."

There was some hesitation in her voice and alarm bells started ringing in my head.

"About this Saturday..."

At this point, I was hoping she was just going to cancel, and that it wasn't something more... permanent.

"... I was wondering if you'd like to come here for dinner... and meet Hannah."

A wave of relief washed over me, and I was smiling when I answered.

"I would love to."

Liz seemed to lighten up too. "Ok, would six o'clock work? I like to eat a little earlier with Hannah so I can have her in bed by eight."

"Yes, six is fine... can I bring anything?"

"I wouldn't say no to a bottle of wine."

"Wine it is, then."

We chatted for a few more minutes, mostly me asking and her replying about how her work was going, before we said goodnight.

*****

Saturday morning, I played golf with Eric for the first time in a few weeks. I had made a promise to myself that I would be diligent in my savings and payment plan. My personal penance for all the terrible decisions I previously made.

Because of this, I didn't have the money to go golfing every week and take Liz out. So I begged off playing with Eric the past couple of weeks, heading to the driving range instead.

Eric asked how things were going with Liz, and I answered honestly, I thought they were going well. Slowly, but well.

I admitted to Eric that I was a little nervous about meeting Hannah tonight.

"Why's that?"

"You're gonna laugh." I stated as I stood behind my ball, lining up my shot.

"Probably, but tell me anyway."

I hit my shot, it leaked a little right, but overall I was happy with it.

"I want her to like me."

Eric nodded as I walked back and wiped my club off, replacing it in my bag and hopping in the passenger seat of the cart.

"Sounds like you're starting to fall for Liz... if you're concerned what her daughter thinks."

Eric drove and parked the cart equidistant from our balls.

"I guess so, but it's funny..."

"Funny how?" He had the scope up to his eye and dropped it to look at me.

"I don't know... I guess it seems like we're both falling for each other in slow motion... like we're both worried that with all our baggage, we don't want to hurt each other. So we're taking things extra slow."

"Probably a smart move on both your parts." Eric retorted, and I couldn't argue with him.

Heading over to Liz's house that evening, I was hoping she wouldn't notice I was wearing the same shirt I wore on our first date. It was clean of course, but I didn't want to break the bank on a whole new wardrobe, so I had bought three pairs of pants and four shirts.

I rang the doorbell and faintly heard the voice of a child call out, "Mommy, he's here!"

I also heard Liz, in a lower tone respond, "I know, sweetie."

A moment later the door opened and I received another one of her smiles that seemed to be having more and more of an effect on me.

She looked down at the flowers I held, and her smile widened. I handed them to her along with the bottle of wine I brought. She then noticed the stuffed animal I also carried and gave me a suspicious look.

I smiled and stated, "I'm not above using bribery."

She smirked and invited me in.

I stepped in and noticed a little face looking at me over the edge of the couch. I got down on one knee to look less intimidating.

"You must be Hannah." She didn't respond, just moved a little more behind the couch, as if she was planning her escape.

Liz chimed in, "Hannah, come say hi to Tom."

It took her a moment, but she slowly started to approach. She rounded the corner of the couch and took a few tentative steps toward me and stopped a few feet away.

I decided to see if my bribery was going to work. "Hi Hannah, I brought something for you." I held out the stuffed bear.

Her eyes grew wider, and she looked up at Liz. "It's ok honey, you can have it."

She closed the distance and took the bear from my hands, giving it a hug. She then looked at me and asked, "What's his name?"

"He doesn't have one yet, it's your job to name him." I responded.

Her face scrunched up as she concentrated. She looked between Liz and I for a moment before declaring she didn't know what to name him.

"That's ok sweetie, we can come up with a name for him later." Liz told her. This seemed to placate her, and she turned and headed toward the living room.

I stood back up and looked at Liz, trying to determine how I was doing. Liz just smirked at me and turned toward the kitchen, "Come on in. Want some wine?"

"Please."

I followed Liz into the kitchen and breathed in the wonderful smells. The kitchen looked like it had been remodeled recently but still kept a homey vibe. I liked it immediately. It didn't have the sterile feel many modern renovations have.

"Can I help with anything?"

"Why don't you open the bottle you brought? Glasses are in that cabinet." Liz motioned to a cabinet on my right, and I fetched two while she opened a drawer and handed me a wine opener. I poured us each a glass and handed one to her while she was busy at the stove. We clinked glasses and she said, "Cheers."

"Cheers, and thank you for having me over."

She looked over and smiled, "Thank you for coming."

Our gazes lingered and it felt like a 'moment' to me... but maybe I was just being hopeful.

We chatted about the meal Liz was preparing, while she took occasional peeks out to the living room to check on Hannah. I took a peek of my own at one point and was immensely satisfied to see her quietly chatting with the stuffed bear I had brought her while she sat in front of the tv.

Dinner was delicious, as I expected just based on the smells. I didn't really know how to interact with a four-year-old, but I tried to ask her questions now and then. She shyly looked at me at first, but wouldn't really answer.

About halfway through the meal, it was like a light switch flicked on. Within a few minutes, she went from saying nothing, to jabbering on nonstop, much to my amusement. She started asking me questions, whose answers seemed to have no bearing on the next question she asked.

It was adorable.

Liz seemed amused by the exchange as well, but tried to slow Hannah down, "Hannah, why don't you let Tom finish his meal, then we can go play a game."

The questioning stopped, but then I received an in-depth explanation of every game we should play and why.

When we finished eating, I helped Liz clean up. She instructed Hannah to pick out ONE game to play while we cleared the table.

She had decided on Candy Land, a game I vaguely remembered playing as a kid, but did not remember any of the rules. It didn't seem to matter as Hannah wasn't interested in abiding by them anyway. Liz gently tried to keep her on track as we played a few games before Liz told her it was time to get ready for bed.

Hannah didn't complain at all, heading to her bedroom to put on her pajamas as she was told. Liz excused herself after putting the game away and asked me to pour us both another glass while she put Hannah to bed.

I heard them going in and out of the bathroom and a few minutes later, Liz came into the living room with a sheepish look on her face. I looked up at her questioningly.

"Hannah is insisting that you come say goodnight to Teddy since you brought him over."

I smiled at her, "Perfect name for him." I responded as I got up off the couch.

She led me back to Hannah's room. A soft nightlight with ever-changing colors sat on the nightstand. Hannah looked at me expectantly from her bed with Teddy held out in front of her.

Liz stayed in the doorway and watched the interaction as I said goodnight to Teddy and Hannah. Hannah insisting that I give Teddy a kiss good night as well. I obliged.

When I got back up and turned to the door, Liz's expression was unreadable to me. She let me past, said a last goodnight to Hannah and closed the door most of the way. She took my hand and led me back to the living room.

We settled on a streaming show to watch. After a few minutes, Liz pulled her legs up on the couch and leaned into me. I hesitated just a moment before putting my arm around her.

She snuggled in closer.

After the first episode finished, Liz got up to check on Hannah. She returned a few moments later, took a sip of her wine and settled into me again. This time looking up at me as she did so.

The invitation was unmistakable. I leaned down and our lips met. After a moment, her tongue parted my lips. It tasted of wine and desire.

It was wonderful.

My arms pulled her closer, but I was aware that a four-year-old was only a few feet away in her room. While my hands roamed, they stayed within the boundaries of Liz's back and sides.

Regardless, I could feel the desire of our kiss growing, until Liz pulled back from me staring into me with a slightly feral look in her eyes. She let out a sigh and snuggled back into me. I got the hint, and we continued watching the show.

After the second episode, I could tell Liz was falling asleep against me. While I loved the feeling, I knew it was time to let her get some sleep.

Our goodbye kiss was less intense than on the couch, but still passionate. She finally pushed me away with a grin, told me goodnight and that she had a great time just relaxing with me.

For my part, I thanked her for the delicious meal, and letting me share time with her and Hannah, who was adorable. An apt description given it was the same one I used to describe her mother at first. Although Liz had firmly moved into the sexy category in my mind. Seeing her more fully, her mannerisms, her beautiful smile and how she deployed it... all sexy to me.

*****

Over the next few weeks, Liz and I started seeing each other more and more. I stopped over for dinner during the week (invited, of course), and we started doing more things together on the weekend. We took Hannah to parks, the movies and even to a petting zoo one Saturday.

Our make-out sessions were getting steamier, and as much as I wanted to push further, I kept myself in check. The point was driven home one evening at Liz's. She was in the act of throwing her leg over me to straddle me when Hannah's voice rang out from just behind the couch.

"Mommy, I'm scared... I had a bad dream!"

Both of us leapt up as if we'd been electrocuted. Liz put Hannah back to bed. There were no words spoken when she returned, but we both knew; we would have to tone things down from then on.

It was about a week later, when Liz called right after I got home from work.

"Can I come over your place Saturday night? Mom said she would watch Hannah for the evening."

Liz wants to come to my place. I live in a trailer.

Now I have nothing against folks that live in a trailer. But some people do, and I wondered if she would think less of me for it.

I realized that if she was the type of person that thought less of me for it, then she wasn't right for me anyway. Besides, that's not the Liz I know.

"You want to come to my place?" Even with the internal dialog I had, I was still having trouble wrapping my head around it.

"Yes, it would be nice to spend a night with just the two of us. My mother could take Hannah to her place, but all her toys and things are at our house, so it's just easier for her to come there and stay the night."

Oh. OH!

"Ok, that sounds great. What time were you thinking?" My mind started making mental preparations. I would have to come up with a dinner plan. I always kept the place clean, but another once over would be in order.

"I was hoping you could come pick me up... umm... my mother has become more insistent on meeting you, especially if she's watching Hannah for the night so I can see you. You don't have to worry, she won't be overbearing with you... she only does that with me."

"That's fine, I think it would be nice to meet your mom."

Well, that escalated quickly.

That Saturday we were on the way to my place after picking up some takeout Indian food. Meeting Liz's mother went well. She asked a lot of questions that I answered honestly. I didn't know how much she knew about my past, so I stayed away from the topic where I could.

Honestly, it wasn't nearly as bad as I was expecting, given Liz's apprehension. Maybe she would interrogate Liz after and that's what she was worried about.

We got to my place, and while I was a little nervous, I also knew there wasn't much I could do about it. Liz knew my circumstances. The mismatched furniture and hand-me-down items should be no surprise to her.

We unpacked the food and made some plates, poured some wine and headed onto my little deck, just big enough for the two of us to be comfortable.

The sounds of children playing off in the distance, as well as the usual nature sounds from the woods that surrounded the park gave us a peaceful ambiance. We ate in mostly comfortable silence. My mind would drift to what I thought might come as the evening progressed and my nerves would act up. 'Just see where the evening goes,' I would tell myself and I just tried to enjoy the company.

We finished our meals and enjoyed the rest of the light out on the deck, finishing the first bottle and opening another. Once the bugs started to show up as the light faded, we headed back inside.

"Would you like to watch a streaming show," I asked once we had cleaned up and put away the leftovers.

I had been heading toward the couch, and when Liz didn't answer right away, I turned to look back towards the kitchen, where Liz still stood. She had an apprehensive look on her face and didn't meet my gaze.

"Are you ok?" I asked, wondering if I had done something wrong.

"Yes... I mean no... I'm sorry, it's just... I know I wasn't very subtle about this evening. I think you know what I was insinuating." She finally met my gaze.

I didn't know how to answer. I hoped she was insinuating what I thought she was, but I didn't want to make assumptions either.

I waited for her to continue.

"It's just now... I'm really nervous."

I could tell. She actually started wringing her hands a bit and any presumptions about the evening went out the window.

"We don't have to do anything, Liz. I'm perfectly content just spending time with you. We can take things as slow as you want." I meant every word.

"It's not that, it's just... I'm worried I won't be any good... it's been years."

"Well, we're both worrying about the same thing then. It's been a long time for me, too."

This information seemed to relax her a bit.

"Come on, sit with me. We'll watch a show, and what happens, happens... even if it's nothing but a little cuddling on the couch."

She smiled at this and joined me in the living room. We sat down and I fired up a show we had been watching at her place. She leaned into me and a put my arm around her. A familiar position for us.

"You know just what to say." She said as her head laid partially on my shoulder and chest.

I turned my head and kissed the top of hers. Her hair always smelled so good. I loved when she leaned into me this way and its mild scent wafted up to me, reminding me she was close.

We watched the show for what felt like only a minute or two before she looked up at me. Her expression spoke of wanting and I'm sure mine did the same.

We leaned into each other at the same time and our lips joined. My desire ramped up quickly and I assume hers did the same, because it felt like only a few moments and Liz lifted her leg up and over to straddle me. This time there was no four-year-old to interrupt our passion.

I was thankful Liz wore a loose-fitting blouse that wasn't tucked in. I put my hands underneath and let them roam freely up her back and sides. My hands occasionally went over the clasp that I so desperately wanted to undo, but I promised myself I would let her set the pace.

As if reading my thoughts, Liz pulled away from me. She was breathing heavily, and I could feel the need between us. "Can we go to your bedroom?"

I replied with a simple, "Yes."

She hopped off me and offered her hand. I led her back to my bedroom, thankful my aunt and uncle had a queen bed they wanted to get rid of. My old twin bed from my parent's house would not have cut it for what I hoped was coming.

Liz released my hand and moved to the other side of the bed. The lights were off in the room, and she was outlined by the soft moonlight coming in through the window behind her.

We both stood motionless for a moment, until Liz's hands went up and she started unbuttoning her blouse. She let it fall off her shoulders and it hit the floor. Her hands went behind her back and her bra soon followed. She stood still for a moment, and I got the hint, starting to unbutton my own shirt.

Once my shirt was off, we simultaneously started working on our pants. I paused for a moment to see what Liz would do. Her thumbs went into her panties and off they came as well. My boxers weren't far behind.

I threw the blankets back so we could both climb in. We moved toward each other, and I put my arm under her head, wrapping my other around her and pulling her close.

Coming from the light of the living room to the dark of my bedroom meant I couldn't see much of Liz, except for her outline. Now, with her pulled close to me, I could explore. My hands got to see what my eyes had missed.

I moved my free hand gently down her side, her hip and then her ass. I kept my touch as light as I could without tickling. She was the only other person than Sarah that I had touched in this way.

The sensations were too good. I desperately wanted to move my hand up and cup her breast. I assumed, by the bits of cleavage I got glimpses of over our dates, that they were a nice size. As we pulled each other closer, they pushed up against me. By the distance they kept our faces apart, I could tell that they were even bigger than I initially thought.

Our lips stayed apart for the moment. We were content to caress parts of each other we never could with our make-out sessions on her couch. Our eyes started to adjust, and I could see her staring into mine.

My caresses stopped. How long we stayed like that and stared, I couldn't say.

Suddenly, her head shot forward, and our lips engaged. This was not slow and sensual. It was desperate.

I pulled Liz as close as I could. She was almost clawing at me. She pulled back from our kiss and pushed on my shoulder while rolling herself on top of me. She then sat up, and in the moonlight coming through the window, I was finally able to view her, unencumbered of clothing.

It was the hottest sight I had ever seen. Her breasts were large with just the slightest hint of sag as could be expected of a mother. I reached up to hold them without even thinking. My hands moving of their own volition. Just as a cupped them, Liz also moved her hips back, slowly dragging her sex over my shaft. I thought I would cum right there.

Our eyes locked in that moment.

"I can't stand it anymore. I need you inside me."

My brain was still slightly functional, and I mumbled "condom." I had hoped we would get to this point and had some stashed in the nightstand, just in case.

"I'm on the pill, to keep my cycle regular. I'm ok without it if you are."

Fine by me.

I wordlessly pulled her down to me and kissed her. She pushed back slightly trying to find my cock and then trying to line it up with her entrance.

Liz found the right position quickly, pushed herself up a bit, and sunk down on me fully. Both of us emitting groans in the process. Neither of us moved for a moment. I was just savoring the sensation, and I assumed Liz was doing the same.

As soon as Liz started to move, I realized there was another reason I wasn't moving: I wasn't going to last. I briefly thought of trying all the normal tropes to last longer. I threw those out immediately. I knew they wouldn't work, and I also wanted to just live in this moment. The sensations, the magnificent view, her breasts slowly swaying as she started to grind against me. It was over all too quickly as I groaned and emptied myself inside her.

Liz slowed her grind and then leaned back over to kiss me. We continued for a moment, until I realized that she hadn't had an orgasm. That didn't sit well with me. It had been even longer for her, and I wanted her to have her release.

I rolled us over and she giggled. I then kissed her as a pulled out of her and slid to one side of her. She made a move to roll towards me. I stopped our kiss and said, "Stay."

"Okay."

She seemed confused for only a moment until my hand travelled down her body and ended up between her thighs. I also decided that her glorious breasts needed some attention. I moved myself lower and took a nipple in my mouth, gently swirling my tongue around the quickly hardening nub.

Meanwhile, my finger parted the folds of her pussy. I felt the moisture of our combined juices and quickly found her hardened nub, slowly circling it with my finger. Liz groaned as I gave her nipple little flicks with my tongue while I slowly increased the speed on her hardened clit. I dipped my finger back inside her for more juice, curling it up and gently rubbing inside before pulling back out and resuming my ministrations on her little bean.

Liz's heavy breathing had turned to panting and I knew she was close. Her nipple still in my mouth, I turned my head slightly so I could look up at her face. Her eyes were scrunched closed, and I felt her start to convulse under me. Her thighs snapped closed and trapped my hand between them.

She squirmed to pull her breast away from me and I keenly felt the loss. I was really enjoying it. She then opened her thighs and pushed my hand away.

She giggled, "Sorry! Too sensitive!"

I thought about telling her how sexy it was to watch her cum but decided to keep the info to myself for the moment. We lay there for a bit before she curled up against me and we pulled each other close again.

"Thank you, I needed that."

I was astounded, "You're thanking me?"

"Well yeah, I mean after you did, I thought maybe we'd just go to sleep and do it again in the morning or something., she stated as she slowly dragged her nails down my back.

"I'd still like to do it again in the morning, if that's ok." That elicited a giggle from her.

"But if I'm honest, we kind of skipped second and third base... not that I'm complaining! But I wanted that too... so nothing to thank me for... it really was my pleasure."

Liz kissed my neck, "Well thank you, and sex in the morning sounds good too!"

We laid there, caressing each other for a bit, until Liz asked if she could use my shower. I thought of asking if I could join her, but quickly realized it would be futile as it was barely big enough for me.

After Liz finished, I realized it wouldn't be a bad idea for me either and headed to shower. After I finished and dried off, I found Liz under the covers in my bed, eyeing me as I took a step toward her. I threw my towel in the hamper, hoping she was as naked under those covers as I now was. She threw the covers back, and while they still covered her below the waist, I was still greeted by another view of her glorious, naked breasts.

I involuntarily smiled at the view, and she smiled back. We entangled ourselves in each other and alternated between bouts of silence and talking. It felt just like one of our comfortable conversations on the couch, with added fondling.

After I gently caressed her breasts for probably the hundredth time, Liz giggle and added, "You really like my boobs!" It wasn't a question.

"They're spectacular, and don't tell me no one has told you that before."

She smiled softly at my comment. "Maybe... but you REALLY like, them. It's like... you're worshipping them."

I smiled at her comment. It was an apt description.

"Beauty like yours should be worshipped." It was a corny comment, but true.

Liz smirked, but didn't call me out on it.

Eventually the conversation died out, the caressing slowed, then stopped. A few moments later I heard soft snoring sounds coming from Liz. I watched her for a while longer until sleep claimed me as well.

*****

The dreams must have been wonderful, although I couldn't remember them. The feeling of contentment let me know they were there.

Another feeling started taking hold as my brain transitioned to its waking state. My memories told me what the feeling was. It had been so long though that I had trouble believing what I was feeling.

My brain was now awake enough that I could open my eyes. I looked down to see the sheets rising and falling above my crotch as Liz's head slowly moved up and down under them. I looked slightly to the right and noticed that her bare ass was sticking out from under the covers, so I reached over and gave it a squeeze.

She hummed in response, not being able to do much more with her mouth full of my cock. It was the best wakeup call I ever received.

She continued for a few moments more before throwing the sheets off her head and rolling to face me, her lips glistening with saliva and a smile on her face.

"I hope you don't mind."

I had to laugh, "You can wake me up that way any time you like."

"Would you like to partake?"

Whatever she had in mind, the answer would be 'yes,' but I was curious, so asked, "What did you have in mind?"

Liz didn't answer, she just threw her leg over my head. I pushed myself down the bed some, to give her legs room and to line my face up with her sex. She went back to work on my cock while I went to work on her already wet slit.

I took several long licks, collecting the juices and savoring their taste. I wrapped my arms around her legs and grabbed the globes of her ass and gave them a squeeze. Liz moaned in response.

After sticking my tongue as deep into her tunnel as I could get it, looking for every drop of her juices, I made my way down to her clit and gently started working it with my tongue, bringing more moans from Liz as she tried to engulf more and more of my cock. The sun being up meant I had a wonderful closeup of her ass and the cute little pucker that sat between her two cheeks. I know it's not everyone's thing, but to me it looked delicious.

I had never thought of putting my tongue there with anyone before Sarah, but she would occasionally ask for it if she had a few drinks in her. I realized after a few times that I enjoyed it, perhaps not the act itself, but the naughtiness of it really turned me on.

This was still very new with Liz though, and I did not want to spoil the mood if it was something she wasn't into. I made a mental note, promising her pucker I would give it attention too someday, if she'd let me. It was all for the best anyway. I was so close that just looking at her ass was threatening to send me over the edge.

As if reading my mind, Liz sped up both the action with her mouth and her hand. I didn't know how she felt about the taste of cum, so I took my mouth away from her clit just long enough to mumble, "Soon." Then as I was on the precipice, "Cummmming."

Liz didn't stop. She continued to suck and jerk until she had milked every last drop out of me. Once satisfied that she had it all, she pulled her head back. Gave a couple of more licks - I assumed to pick up some that she missed - before rolling off me.

Liz made to get off the bed, but I had other plans.

"Oh no you don't!" I grabbed her and pulled her back as she giggled. Setting her on her back as she continued to giggle, I dove between her legs and went to work.

Two orgasms later, we were sweaty and ready for another shower. I showered first and got working on breakfast for my guest while she showered.

Breakfast was so comfortable I had to pinch myself to make sure it was real. If felt like we had always done this together. The coffee was made, and Liz poured us cups as I finished up the eggs. We danced around each other in my small kitchen without words and without issues.

Liz wore short, loose-fitting shorts and a t-shirt with no bra. Her still wet hair making damp spots on the shirt. I couldn't keep my eyes off her.

She was mid-sip with her coffee when she looked up at me. She quickly put the cup down with a half-exasperated smile on her face, "What?"

I tried to play dumb, which wasn't far from the truth, "What, what?"

Liz wasn't having it of course, "You're staring."

I laughed, "I am, and I'm sorry."

I didn't say anything more which only frustrated her more, "Well!?"

Another laugh before answering, "I'm sorry, it's just you look so damn sexy right now."

Liz wasn't buying what I was selling, the smile disappeared, "I'm not sexy in a t-shirt and shorts with my hair wet. What's really up?"

I worried for a moment, I was telling the truth but it was obvious she didn't believe me. I decided continued honesty was the best policy.

"I'm serious... I know it's just a t-shirt and shorts, but you still look so good, and..." I searched for the right word, "it's so effortless." The perfect word.

I continued, "You threw that on, didn't dry your hair, so in your mind, you probably don't think you look your best. To me, you're just as beautiful now as you would be dressed up for a dinner date."

I stopped there. I could continue to extol the beauty I saw, but didn't want to frighten her away. I really was falling for her.

We picked Hannah up after breakfast and took her to a park together. I was starting to feel like I was part of their family, and I was loving every minute of it.

*****

The weather had finally warmed up enough for me and Eric to go golfing again. I had a self-imposed one round every two weeks limit set so I could continue saving.

"So how much do you have saved now?"

We had both just cracked a beer. It was 11:30, close enough to beer o'clock. It also gave us something to do while we waited for the group in front of us to hit. The season was just ramping up, so the course was packed. Waiting to hit was the default.

"A few thousand. It's enough for a small ring. She knows my situation, so it's not like she's expecting a huge rock."

Eric sipped his beer as he took my statement in. He abruptly stopped and turned his head toward me, "You know, I just realized, you are the luckiest guy I know."

I looked at him, wondering where this was going, "How so?"

"You married your high school sweetheart. Who, let's be honest, was the love of your life at that time. Then you won the fucking lottery!"

He was ticking them off on his fingers, one by one.

"Then, you lose it all but somehow come out of it with a new love of your life, who is head over heels in love with you as well, and probably soon to be your fiancé."

I raised an eyebrow at him, "Probably?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself, it's not a done deal until she says yes." He then clinked his can with mine to show he was kidding.

The conversation stuck with me for years afterward. Any time I started feeling sorry for myself, this conversation would immediately enter my mind. Eric was right, I am the luckiest man I know.

*****

I reread the email for the third time. I blew out a breath and walked in the back door to find Liz. She was in the kitchen as I expected, chopping vegetables for a salad she was making. Her large belly forcing her to stand back from the counter, giving her cutting actions a slightly comical look.

I walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her, gently caressing her belly.

"You shouldn't sneak up on a pregnant woman holding a knife."

"No?" I stopped caressing her belly and moved up to her breasts. Pregnancy had made them even more spectacular.

Liz put the knife down. "They're sore, and that feels good, but I don't want Hannah catching us like this... later?"

I gave her nipples a slight tweak through her bra before releasing her breasts and leaning towards her ear, "Promise?"

She turned her head toward me and I gave her one of those awkward kisses, where I didn't quite reach her mouth.

"Promise."

The distraction of Liz's breasts and how sexy she looked pregnant faded, and I remembered my reason for coming to find her.

"Well, let's see how you feel about this before you promise."

That got Liz's attention, and she put the knife down to turn and face me. I unlocked my phone and handed it to her to read the email.

I could see the frown forming on her face as she read it.

The frown only deepened as she finished the email and looked at me. "Are you going to meet with her?"

"Not if you don't want me to." The frown looked like it was starting to be replaced with anger.

"Why would you want to?" Liz's voice went up in octaves as well as volume and I could tell she was getting upset as I saw her eyes start to fill.

I got up and put my arms around her again, from the front this time. "I won't go. I knew the email might upset you, but I didn't want to keep it from you either."

The statement seemed to have an immediate effect on her anxiety, and she visibly relaxed in my arms.

"I'm glad you didn't keep it from me, but I still want to know why you would even want to meet with her, I mean she tried to ruin your life."

I understood where Liz was coming from and how she could feel that way, but it's not the way I felt. I took a few moments to collect my thoughts on it before responding, with Liz giving me the time to do so.

"I can understand why you think that, but it's not the way I feel about it." Liz tilted her head and gave me a questioning look.

"I think our lives were ruined the minute we won that lottery." I could see Liz processing this information and waited a moment before continuing.

"Neither one of us was equipped to deal with it, so we both dealt with it badly."

Liz nodded her head slightly in understanding, and I could see a thought click into her head, "Do you think she wants to get back with you?"

I laughed at the statement, but it didn't seem to mollify Liz. I suppressed the smile I had before responding, "I think she knows that ship has sailed; you have nothing to worry about."

Liz still wasn't having it, pulling away from me and walking - rather, waddling - around the kitchen as she thought.

"Yeah, but how do you know that? You've been very honest about what you had with Sarah... why wouldn't she want that back?"

The answer to me, was obvious, "Because she knows I'm happily married to you and we're expecting a child... at least I think she does."

Liz turned to face me, and I could see the anger returned, "And how would she know that? Have you already been talking to her?"

"What? No, why would you say that?"

My surprise at the sudden venom must have shown as Liz dialed her anger back a bit.

"Then how would she know we're together, or that I'm pregnant?"

It was a good question, and I realized some previous information I hadn't shared might now bite me.

"Oh, because Eric told me Sarah was back in town and staying with her folks. She had to have gotten my email address from someone we know, so I just assumed they would have also told her my situation."

I was right, the tears started to well up again, along with the anger, "Why didn't you tell me this!?"

I replied softly, not wanting to escalate this any further, "I didn't think there was anything to tell. She hadn't reached out to me, and I definitely wasn't reaching out to her, so what does it matter that she's back in town?"

She started waddling again, and gesticulating with her arms as she replied, "Oh, I don't know, your high school sweetheart, whose online posts make her look like an Instagram model, comes back into town to reconcile with you, while your whale of a wife has trouble getting off the bed in the morning. What could be wrong!?"

The tears were flowing now, and I got up to hold her. She reciprocated, which was the first good sign. I leaned over her belly, and she put her head on my chest, wetting it as she cried herself out.

Hannah poked her head in the kitchen and saw the last vestiges of her mother's sobs.

"Mommy, are you ok?"

Liz picked her head up and tried to wipe some of the tears away before responding, "Yeah, I'm fine sweetie."

The concern was still on Hannah's face, "Were you yelling at daddy?"

It was sweet and alarming how the thought of parents fighting affects a child. Thankfully it was something that never happened past a slightly raised voice in our home. This being the most extended 'fight' we had ever had, even if I didn't think it deserved that moniker.

"No sweetie, mommy was raising her voice because she's very hormonal right now, and sometimes she has trouble controlling herself... remember I told you about hormones the other day?"

Hannah thought for a moment before responding, "Yeah... I don't want hormonals, they sound bad."

Liz and I both laughed at this, Liz then responding, "Hormones, and you won't have to worry about them for a long time."

Hannah repeated the word to herself, "Hormones, hormones."

I worried about a call from the school if she started using the word in class.

"Daddy, are you still taking me to Tracy's house?"

"Yes, sweetie. Why don't you get your stuff ready, and we'll leave in a few minutes."

Hannah bounded toward her room, and I turned to face Liz. The fight was gone from her, but I didn't like the sad appearance she had.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to upset you. I was just trying to be honest and open."

"I know. That's the way you've always been with me. That's what angers me, my stupid insecurity."

I reached toward her and held her again. She put her had back on my chest and softly said, "You should go meet with her."

I pulled back slightly, while still holding her, "What? No way am I meeting with her! You and this family are number one for me. I'm not doing anything that even remotely makes you question that."

Liz pulled me back in and responded into my chest, "I know that's how you feel, that's why I'm saying it's ok."

I chewed on her words for a moment before responding, "Yeah, but why would I bother? I have a family, and happiness, that chapter closed for me a long time ago."

Liz responded quicker than I expected, "Yes, but maybe it hasn't closed for her. Based on her email, it sounds like that's what she's looking for."

"Maybe, but I'm not jeopardizing what we have to give someone else closure."

Liz gave me a light smack, "You're not jeopardizing anything, I know how much you love us. I'm just being hormonal and emotional."

I gave her a kiss on the top of her head. I still wasn't sure it was a good idea to meet with Sarah, and wanted to give Liz more time to think about it.

"I'm going to take the gremlin over to Tracy's house, want anything while I'm out?"

We separated so Liz could go back to her salad prep.

"Pickle-flavored ice cream." She said while laughing.

"Gross, I'm really hoping that's not a thing." I stated and grabbed my keys, heading out of the kitchen in search of Hannah.

*****

I sat in the car outside of the coffee shop, afraid to go in, and trying to figure out why. I discounted Liz being mad at me - she had practically pushed me into going - although I still didn't understand why.

I pondered if I was worried there would still be feelings there. The thought gave me chills. The thought of losing the family I now had over rekindled feelings with Sarah made me almost sick. All the reinforcement I needed.

Mental challenges handled, I headed into the coffee shop we had agreed to meet at. Sarah wanted to meet on Saturday, but I insisted on a day after work. Partly because the weekends were family time that I didn't want interrupted, but also because I wanted an easy out if I started to get uncomfortable. What would make me uncomfortable, I had no idea, but luck favors the prepared.

I was a few minutes early. After scanning the few patrons that were seated and not seeing Sarah, I went to the counter and got myself a decaf coffee to nurse while I waited.

I sat down at a table for two, facing the entrance. I didn't see anyone approaching, so I unlocked my phone to check my emails and messages.

It felt like only a moment later when I felt a presence standing next to the table and I looked up.

"You didn't recognize me, did you?"

I did now. It was undeniably Sarah, but as cliché as it sounds, it was a version of Sarah where the light had gone out. She had bags under her eyes, her hair slightly mussed. She wore sweatpants and a t-shirt. Even before the lottery, Sarah made an effort to look nice when she went out.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't notice you, please sit." I felt bad that I hadn't looked harder for her.

Sarah sat down and sighed. "It's ok, I don't recognize myself when I look in the mirror these days."

I couldn't tell if it was directed at me, or if she was talking to herself. She fidgeted for a moment while I waited. She had asked to meet, so I felt she should start the discussion.

"I have so many things to say, but I don't know where to begin."

I watched her while I sipped my coffee. I had a feeling I knew what she was going through, but I wanted to hear it from her.

Sarah fidgeted a moment more before continuing, "I guess I'll start by saying I'm sorry... the way I treated you, at the end, during the divorce..."

I raised my hand in the classic 'stop' symbol, the way Eric had done to me when I tried to apologize all those years ago, "Sarah, don't."

She looked at me with a bit of fear in her eyes.

She relaxed, once I continued, "There's nothing to apologize for... I had a lot of time to think about this. I know there are a lot of things I feel responsible for, and I'm now guessing you do too... but, honestly, I don't dwell on it. We weren't equipped to handle what happened to us. Two lower-middle-class people suddenly having millions of dollars."

Sarah still had plenty of money when I left, but given her current appearance, and the fact she was back with her parents, I assumed that was no longer the case.

Her tears started to flow. I got up and grabbed some napkins, placing them on the table as I sat. Sarah grabbed one and blew her nose.

"It's all gone."

I just nodded; it was what I expected.

I noticed that she hadn't gotten anything for herself.

I looked down at my coffee, then at Sarah, "What would you like?"

"Huh?" She was still wiping her nose.

"To drink, what would you like?"

I saw the embarrassment creeping in, "Nothing, I'm fine."

"You used to love those latte things; I'll get you one."

Before she could protest, I was already on my feet and heading to the counter.

I brought the latte back and placed it in front of her, receiving a quiet, "thank you" in return.

I sat back down and looked at her, waiting for her eyes to meet mine. When she was finally able to meet my gaze, I continued, "You have nothing to be embarrassed about, not in front of me.

Everything you're going through, everything you're feeling, I've been through."

Her tears started to flow again, "I know, and it's my fault."

"It isn't, we both caused it. We both have to deal with the fallout."

Sarah seemed to retreat into thought about that for a moment. It took a bit for her to come back and look at me again. "Can I ask you a question?

I know it doesn't matter anymore, but I really want to know."

"Sure, go ahead."

"Did you ever cheat on me? You know, on one of your golf trips... or anytime, I guess."

I knew the truth would hurt her, but she was going to get it anyway.

"No."

More tears. "I did."

"I know." Her eyes, which had been wandering around the shop, snapped back to mine.

"You knew?"

"I came home from one of my trips early, I caught you in bed with Adam what's his name."

"Cole."

"Yeah, Adam Cole."

Disbelief was painted on her face, "Why didn't you say anything, or try and stop us?"

I thought about it for a moment, even though the answer was clear, "Because I felt I deserved it. You and I had grown distant, and I felt it was my fault."

Sarah seemed mortified that I had caught her, but once I told the story of why I had come home early, the drugging, the robbery, she seemed to calm. Maybe she thought that made us even or something.

She then began to open up, to tell me how she and Adam started dating after I left. I knew where this story led, but let her tell it anyway.

Sarah was starting to worry more about the money she had left, but Adam was enjoying spending it. It was something she probably should take more responsibility for, but I didn't feel it was my place to say.

The money was eventually gone, but the spending continued for a bit more until all the credit was used up and Sarah had to declare bankruptcy. Adam was gone by the time she made the first call to the lawyers.

The rest of the story was the same as mine. When the dust settled, she was penniless and had a very long-term payment plan for her debt. She had nowhere to go but back to her parents.

My situation had vastly improved since I was in that same position. Moving in with Liz, whose house had been paid for by her ex's wealthy parents, had allowed me to double, and sometimes triple my monthly payments. My debt no longer loomed over me.

These were details I didn't share with Sarah. She would have to take her own journey. It didn't stop my heart from breaking a bit for someone I once cared so much for.

We said our goodbyes, with no hugs, and no promises to keep in touch, which I was thankful for.

Once home, I sat with Liz on the couch and relayed the entire conversation. She didn't say it, but I think Liz felt bad for Sarah. She had been there for the tail-end of my recovery and knew it wasn't a fun time. There were no questions about continued feelings for Sarah. I'm sure Liz understood that there was no longer anything there.

*****

A week later, I stood next to the hospital bed Liz was laying in, holding my son Jake. As I looked down at the ruddy-cheeked little bundle, a tuft of dark hair sticking out from the top, the words Eric had said to me came back to me: I really am the luckiest man.