Before heading back to Rebecca's house we decided to stop for some food. As she drove around we were holding hands and acting like a normal couple. It... seemed our days of hiding in the shadows and quick hookups were in the past. While driving I placed my hand on her legs, the tight black leggings hugged her body. I kept moving my hand closer to her inner thigh; the warmth she was producing was intoxicating. The closer I got, The more I wanted. It wasn't long before I had my hand down the front. For me, the challenge of overcoming the inertia of my groggy sleep state conjurs mental images of Houdini, breaking free of a straight jacket and fifty iron chains while under twenty feet of water. Yet somehow, I always manage. And as I was stumbling though the garage, groggily searching for my car to go to work, I bumped into Claire. Normally the sharpest, most together person at the office, today she looked every bit as exhausted as I was. “Long night?” I asked. “Didn’t get a single minute of. ’ When intellect failed, his hands got busy — working. The diversion method of ignoring problems always served him ill in the past and history repeats when you don’t learn from it. Seeing her now, beautiful and whole and vibrant and… and… ‘I’m still a stupid ass.’ They’d been overwhelmed by the outpouring of kindness from the townsfolk and Faith’s New York friends, making it easy for him to slip behind the scenes. Her twins, Amy and Seth, had stayed home for a month after the college semester. Someone, and he naturally suspected his lovely spouses, had straightened him out in the bed, shoved a pillow under his head and tucked him in. He smelled coffee. "Clearly I'm still dreaming," he thought. Feeling someone warm and alive snuggled up to his back he very slowly and carefully rolled over to find himself gazing into the loving eyes of his wife Margo."Mornin' lover," she murmured. "Have a good night?" Oh God yes ... you?" Umm hmmm ... even at the end. I'm pretty sure I was kidnapped.