Instead they had a reliance on the delusion of their ambitions.These were ambitions that made a woman cold and a man look elsewhere. These were drives and wants that made a woman look for something better than what a lowly but loving man could offer her. Perhaps he was dreaming, because within the world he dreamt about—with soft hands touching and probing the parts of his face that hurt terribly—love was the only element necessary that bound a man to a woman. All of the other accoutrements that a marriage may have brought became meaningless when compared to the initial happiness of opening his eyes, his bruised head resting on fluffy pillows, and the golden visage of Renee staring down at him as he lay in one of Artie’s many bedrooms, moving in and out of his dream world, her hands gently forcing him from this visionary bliss into the real world of uncertainty and doubt.“Where am I?” he asked.“Shhh,” said Renee. “There, there. You were sleeping. I was watching you sleep.”Charlie. Then after I had assured Heather we would and could deal with her father she told us she would be eternally grateful and accepted our offer to move in.That Monday Heather stayed home from school and while her father was at work, me, Heather and the FBI picked up all her personal belongs and moved her into one of our spare bedrooms. That evening me and the FBI returned to Heather's old home and confronted her father. We explained very clearly that if he were to ever even attempt to contact Heather without her permission he would find himself behind bars so fast even his shadow wouldn't be able to keep up. Then with the FBI standing right there, I hit the bastard with a full, roundhouse, haymaker knocking him flat on his ass, "That's for Heather, you sick bastard," I told him and then we left.Apparently Vicky had said something to Heather because right after Heather moved in she started making sure she kissed me at least, but not limited to, once a day. And they weren't those little.
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