Savannah opened the second bottle of Boizel Brut R¨¨serve and poured a generous slug into her Baccarat wine glass.She slopped a bit on the marble surface of the kitchen counter but simply employed a sponge to whisk the spilled champagne into the sink.At fifty bucks a bottle, she should be more careful.No matter.She could afford to spill it, to water the plants with it, and to bathe in it if she so desired.
Taking her glass, she wandered from the kitchen to the living room.Why did everything look and feel so gritty?Life had become a chore even though Savannah had everything she ever wanted out of it, a handsome and successful husband, a beautiful home, and two adorable children, Jameson and Annalee.Yet, she felt as if something was missing in her life, some nebulous, intangible thing that
