“ She does not,” I told him. “ She really does,” he said. “It's not just jealousy is it?” “ What?” “ The reason you're so mean to...her.” “ Ha,” I ha'ed. “Ha. Ha.” “ She'd like to be your friend.” “ Ha.” I said. “She's got you snowed. Of course she does. You married her.” “ You don't have to fuck me,” he said. “ You're wrong. I have to fuck you. You don't have to fuck me, but if I don't fuck you, she wins.” “ Wins what?” He asked. He sat on the edge of the bed and took my hand in his. “. This way.Mendelssohn's "Wedding March" began. The congregation rose. I was buoyedby the large number that were attending. I frankly hadn't expected somany. There had been, I sadly learnt, several declinations of invitations.And yet the confident soldier in me said, "Fuck 'em."We slowly made our way down the pews. Grins. Smiles. A few stoic looks.Splendid dresses. Business suits. A few military dress uniforms here andthere; not as many as I had hoped but more than I had expected. I issuedeach a. More

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