Michael’s letter to me is still sitting in the passenger’s seat, and I remember his other request to me. “Have you taken the letter to his wife, yet?”
I shake my head, not wanting to speak. “Don’t ever leave again,” Kally, my five year old daughter cries against my other leg. . “Mom, is dad okay?” Ashley asks, while Kally cries her own tears. I puke a few more times, the entire shower doing its best impression of a carousel; before I finally feel good enough to get cleaned up. I can’t help but notice her breasts against my arm, and try to focus on something else. Booting up my laptop, I navigate to the hidden folder on my computer, and stare at the one marked ‘Barton’. . This story does not have a lot of sex for its length, but considering it is based on reality. We’ve been friends long enough, that I’ve long ago gotten used to him calling me prick. I want you to have my laptop.
