17
There was another reason I didn’t want to confront Sandra. Perhaps this was even more important than the first. Strange though it may seem, I had no desire to take her to task over her unfaithfulness. It was as if what I’d done to Brian had completely exorcised me of any desire for retribution I may have had.
Not long after I buried Brian (if you could call it a burial; I suppose it was similar to a burial at sea) I began to reconsider my life.
It became clear to me that I had to work at my relationship with Sandra. I’d let that slide for far too long and I wanted to put things right, if it wasn’t too late. I could only hope she’d be willing to be open minded about me, and, more to the point, about us.
I’m fifty-nine years old and Sandra is thirty-five. I snatched her from the cradl
