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”“What’s her name?” Stephanie asked with a smirk.“Who says there’s a girl?” I asked.“Why would you go back to St. Martin otherwise?”...��Did I say I was going alone?”“No, but you said ‘I’ not ‘we’!”“Oh, please!” I protested.“So, her name?” Stephanie asked with an arched eyebrow.“Annette,” I chuckled. “You know me too well.”“Thirty-three years! And maybe once the divorce is final I’ll take a pair of young Navy ensigns on a REAL voyage of discovery.”“Just promise one thing,” I replied with a. Her skin was the palest shade of mocha.Katrina and I was watching an annoying travel vlogger on our large flatscreen. A load of over privileged students where getting wasted at a full moon beach party in Thailand. Kat suddenly perked, “Come on, Don. Let’s do something freaky or wild like that.”Katrina was not freaky.I loved her because she was the perfect wife. She was sensible and stable, intelligent and caring. A career woman. But one thing she wasn't was freaky. She didn’t need to be. I. More

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