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TWO WEEKS LATE

SERGIO

I haven’t had a good sleep the way I did last night in a long time. It is a windy morning, and the waves in the ocean are not failing to hit aggressively against the rocks, but that is nothing to complain about because it is beautiful.

I am in the kitchen making breakfast for me and my wife. Things between us are promising, but we are taking it slowly.

KIDDING! We are definitely rushing to catch up, I mean, last night we had an amazing love-making session, and before we slept, we talked about our dreams. I asked her if she would ever think about moving to France, and without hesitation, she said a BIG YES. Well, to me it sounded like a rational decision because, to be honest, Paula has been through so much and probably wants to get away for that reason, so I am going to ask her again so that she does get to think about it.

While I am busy in the kitchen, Paula walks in, wearing only the t-shirt that I was wearing last night. I walk up to her and stand in front of her.

“Goo
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