We checked out some tents, but no one was there inside.Peter laughed, saying my sexy wife would be fucking somebody in a sailing boat moored there not...so far. I asked him why he was so sure she was fucking. He laughed louder, picking up a tiny bikini bottom from the grass and I recognized it belonged to Ana.Peter put the little piece to his nose, saying no doubt it was Anita…I wanted to kill the bastard, but I managed to keep calm and just said he could leave if he needed to go. But Peter. Love? No, never.” He drained his glass in two big gulps and placed it down, running his fingers thoughtfully along the stem. “I was beginning to think I was a stone-cold psychopath.”“Beginning to?”“Yeah, but I think I’m finally starting to thaw out.” He cracked a smile then.I moved my glass from side to side, concentrating on the rise and fall of the liquid as it splashed against the crystal.“What is this, though? A fling?” I said, not daring to look up at him. “Where’s it going to end? I feel. More

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