Surprisingly she wore no blouse under her jacket, just a white lacy bra which looked downright incongruous against her solid dark frame and covering h...r ample firm breasts. She hung her jacket over the back of a chair and picked up the cane once more, flexing it in her hands and trying a couple of practice swings to judge its weight. Yvette, in her prone position glanced at Hanna out of the corner of her eye and shuddered, biting back the sob of fear that rose in her throat. Without her jacket. Love is looking at her with the blond hair and blue eyes that are always smiling across the dinner table. It is my arm around her as we look down at the children sleeping in their beds. Love is watching her when she doesn’t know that I am there. It is waking up early and kissing her until she wakens. My thoughts of her as I work and dream of what is yet to be in our life is certainly love. I can probably encompass it all simply by saying ‘she is love.’ But, I get away from my story. We were. More

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