*Madelyn*
Sipping a Bordeaux, I sit on the floor in the library, listening to the residence settling in for the night. A creak here, a moan there. I have done the same a thousand times in the country, drawing comfort from the noises, feeling like I'm absorbing some part of my husband's history. But here, he has very little history.
Rover makes a small snuffling sound, asleep with his head resting on my lap. Wearing my nightgown and wrap, my hair braided and draped over one shoulder, I have prepared for bed but can't sleep. So, I came in search of something to help me relax. It seems my husband has quite the collection of spirits. The wine slides down my throat smoothly, warming me almost as much as the fire.
With my back against the chair, I wiggle my bare toes and try not to wonder wh
