Richard The I

Blue found no joy in admitting that she spent more time with Sandra than she did with her own husband in recent times. Vincent left before she awoke; planted a gentle kiss on his sleeping wife’s shoulder before he dressed silently. He’d return by the time she begrudgingly fell asleep, that much she had gathered. Staring at the sleeping man as she awoke mid-sleep for reasons that eluded still, she admittedly wondered if Richard had succeeded in keeping them apart sans some diabolical scheme.

But the dates that she longed for at a quiet cafe had become brunch with her mother-in-law; the change room quickies she’d enjoyed once upon a time had been traded for designer handbag shopping and tiny sandwiches. There was only so much “watching her figure” for the wedding she could feign before pregnancy nausea began to look like anorexia.

“What are you doing at university, darling?” the question alone was enough to make Blue clam up with