In the kitchen there was an awkward moment and then he said, “Can I ask you something?”“Sure.” I replied.“No offense, but why do you let you... wife...well, you know.” He said.“Fuck other guys?” I said.“Yeah. I just don’t get it. If she was my wife, I’d keep her to myself.” He responded.“I do it because I love her so much.” I said.“Huh?”“OK, let’s put it this way. If you had a wife that just loved to buy shoes, wouldn’t you let her buy as many shoes as you could afford?” I asked.“I suppose so.”. What’s wrong with me? He rubbed his forehead, the dizziness fading. Where did that all come from? I haven’t had had over an attractive woman in years is all, he mused. I’ll be fantasising over the next curvy tree I see if I’m not careful. He knew he shouldn’t be fantasising like this - this was his own daughter for God’s sake - but there she was before him, beautiful, peaceful, docile. She was a fantasy. However - deep down Richard knew there was something else. The memory of his wife. More

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