While petting my beloved horse Mable's reddish brown mane softly, I think back to five years ago when I wasn't married to a man who's only passion is making vast fortunes and working every second of the day. Matter of fact, if I was completely honest, marriage wasn't my first thought. I had wanted to travel and be a world famous designer in Milan. When my dad notified me of the arranged marriage, I freaked out. Not knowing that people still did that in the U.S., my first thought was to run away. So I took the earliest plane that I could find to Europe and hid. I stayed abroad for 6 months till they eventually found me. How could I get married? I was so young and wanted to do so many things before I was chained down to one man. Getting married wasn't one of them. Feeling Mable snort, brings me back to the present and she rubs her nose on my hand to get me to pet her again. The soft fur always calms me, I have had her my whole life. She used to be my mom's before she di

Waking up early and stretching in bed, I smell ham and eggs cooking.  Marissa must have gotten here oftly early this morning to be making breakfast already.  Stepping out of bed, I feel the cold wood planks under my feet and immediately form goosebumps on my arms.  Brrr.  I rush to grab my heavy robe and put it on my shoulders.  Struggling so early in the morning, I really have a hard time finding the holes to put my arms in.  When I do succeed eventually, I step into the kitchen, saying, "Goodmorning Marissa, did you sleep well last night?"Taking a seat at the counter, I wait patiently for my food and an answer.  She turns around and smiles, "Yes, ma'am.  I did and you?"  Thinking about my answer, before saying anything, I wonder if I should tell her about my dreams.  Settling on no for now, I state, "Yes, I did too.  This all smells wonderful."  Waving my hands at the meal co

I wake up in a cold sweat.  Peeling my bedsheets off of my naked body, I get up to grab a set of fresh ones from the hall closet.  When I touch the wood floor, I shiver from the cold and hurry to put my robe on.  After I put on my robe and slippers, I creep out into the hallway and open the linen closet.   The last thing I want to do is wake up Brad.  He might be drunk or even question why I am up, and as far as I am concerned this is not the time or place to be discussing my dreams with him.  Matter of fact, I don't ever want to talk to him again, but I don't have a choice.  Knowing that he feels that way about another woman makes my skin crawl. Looking through the fabrics, I pick the Egyptian cotton powder blue sheets and quietly sneak back to my room.  Taking off the wet ones and replacing them with the fresh sheets, I take off my robe and slippers and then climb back into bed.  I lay there for a while, thinking ab

After reading for several hours, I decide to go for a walk.  I go through my closet and choose a comfortable pair of jeans and a nice royal blue sweater that my dad bought for me last year as a present.  Putting them on, I model in the mirror for myself and realize that something is missing.   Placing my sapphire heart earrings in, I once again model in front of the mirror.  Perfect.  Satisfied with my appearance, I shut my closet and pull on my light brown leather fashion boots that I have picked out for the day.  I always cringe a little when I start to walk in them, because they make this percussive sound on the wood floors that echoes throughout the whole house. Standing up, I walk to the door of the bedroom and open it, hesitating before shutting it behind me as I look inside for anything I forgot.  I turn the corner of the hallway and walk to the door.  Not seeing Brad, I march out the door before he decides to stop

While cleaning up my room before dinner, I sit down and secretly wish that Dean was here and we were making love.  Looking out the window, I watch as the wind blows against the house, so I decide to go downstairs and make dinner.  On the way to the kitchen, I catch a glimpse of Dean outside the front door and walk over, trying to see what is going on. Opening the door, I notice an older man who I have never seen before, standing by Dean and it seems like they are in a confrontation.  Both of them turn to face me, before I ask, "What seems to be the problem here?" Dean speaks up first, saying matter of factly, "My parole officer doesn't believe that I am employed here and is trying to throw me back in prison.  Is there any way you can verify my employment to him for me?" Looking at the older gentleman, I ask politely, "May I know who I am talking to?" He nods and answers, "I am Mr. Conway, Dean's parole officer.  I was notified