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There was a brick patio that ran the entire length of the house. One night I came home and his truck was in the driveway. When I went in all the lights were out except her bedroom which I could see under her door. I went in my bedroom which shared a wall with hers. I wasn't thinking about anything except getting into bed when I heard moaning. I realized they had no idea that I had come home. In all the years they dated they were EXTREMELY discreet and to my knowledge never did anything if I was anywhere around. I slid out of my room and into the den making sure to not make a sound. Opening those damn sliding glass doors was the most tedious thing I've ever done. I knew if they made one sound they would know I was home. After what seemed like an hour but was probably more like 5 minutes I had managed to get the door open and slid onto the patio. I walked so carefully across the patio, scared the whole time that I would step on a damn leaf or something that would give me away. When I. These were new beginnings. The sum had become larger than anything that ever existed in Holly's life; a life that had exploded with happiness, that fizzed like the insects in the meadows as winter turned to spring and spring into summer. It was time to settle, to make a home. And there was only one place that Holly wanted to do that, although it filled her with fear to even think of returning to that place. As summer faded, and a year to the day since Rob had found Holly tied to a rock, they arrived at the Rope and Anchor. They were but a day’s walk from that very same rock, from where it had all started. Considering its isolated location, the Anchor had a surprisingly large selection of single malt Scotch. “So, you were a sailor?” Rob asked the barkeeper, exercising his conversational skills. “No. I fucking ‘ate the sea. There’s more bloody monsters in there than there are roond ‘ere. At least roond ‘ere they ‘av the decency t’only come twice a year.“ “Just like your Missus, eh.
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