‘Sasha, please tell me what’s wrong,’ he pleaded ‘wasn’t this what you wanted?’ ‘I’m not Sasha,’ I managed to squeeze out between my...white, trembling lips ‘my name is Susan.’ ‘What, wait, what, I don’t get it, you’re not, you’re not Sasha?’ he stuttered. I shook my head and squeezed my eyes shut around the tears I could feel were gathering in them. ‘I don’t understand? I’m in the right building, it’s the right day, the right time,’ he mumbled ‘and you look absolutely perfect.’ I looked up in. 4 children and even the bounding Labrador. So why would I want to go and risk it all?Her name was Catherine. She was born and grew up in rural France and, though she'd lived and worked in the UK for the last fifteen years, since moving over here with her French husband, her English was still spoken with a sexy and unmistakeable French accent. She was a petite blonde woman, some eight years my junior in her early thirties, with a short, trendy 'Pixie' hair cut to go with her cute elfin-like. During Arthur's deployment the first time, then while he was at home between tours, then this last time while he was still away across the seas. She had wept as she considered how she could tell him this news one more time. She had been taking such good care of herself. So careful.It's the worst thing to ever happen to anyone she had thought when she was home from the hospital rocking herself into a stupor of pity. Then the doorbell rang. No, she thought, peeking out around the curtain on the. She saw a beautiful pink one, but the bra was only a 34B. She'd need a Ccup at least if she was going to wear one. She continued her search. "May I help you?" Asked a man with a long white beard and wearing abathrobe. "No, you didn't get me up." "How did you know?" Jackie began to say when she was interrupted again."What you were going to say?" The storeowner said. "Call it a gift.Speaking of gifts, I'm sure we can get you hooked up."Fingering the rack, he pulled out a purple outfit that went.
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