There was a long silence. Then, almost reluctantly, Allison asked, “How did you two meet?”
He hadn’t thought about that night in years. “It was at an evening reception at an art gallery in Hartford. I can’t remember the name of the artist. The paintings were different. Not my taste at all.”
But though he’d gone to the show hoping to find a gift for his mother’s new condominium and had been disappointed in that respect, the evening hadn’t been a total waste. He’d been about to leave when a beautiful woman had offered him a glass of wine and then introduced herself as Marianne McLaughlin.
Within half an hour he was totally bewitched.
They had an intense four-week affair. And by the beginning of the fifth week, while he was haunting jewelry stores looking for the perfect ring to tempt her, she was already drifting away.
He’d tried to deny what was happening. Found excuses to explain why she was slow returning his calls. Why suddenly she could only find time for him once or twice a week, rather than every night like before.
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