Ichiyo and the coat girl were taking his coat and welcoming him in the doorway as I walked up, moving as fast as I could, but trying not to look like I was hurrying. I'd suspected today was d-day, so I'd dressed a little less fetish, but still in uniform. The purple leather Chinese style dress I wore had a high collar that looked almost like a choker. It was ankle length, but slit at both sides up to my hips. An embroidered dragon curled from my back over my shoulders and swirled down around my cleavage. It was a stunning dress, a worthy hyaku mon (ten thousand dollar) gift from one of my oldest clients. The shoes were matched, purple dyed pumps and my blonde hair was up in a bun, a style I'd found much more useful since adopting a more matronly position as manager. Two gold chopsticks held the bun in place and were made from the same gold as the dragon torcs wrapped around my upper arms. I liked the look because it was classy, but also had an element of mythological heroine to it.. But I didn’t realise she was pregnant. I didn’t realise that he was looking for some kind of sexual release because his wife wouldn’t, or couldn’t, accommodate his needs. I just didn’t know. I’d found the unconditional love I was looking for. I’d found an ability to be able to return it. My mind blanked out every other aspect, every other possible problem, every other realistic event. I lived totally in the moment. And then it ended. Like the click of a locked door on a jail cell. To say I was devastated sounds so trite. I couldn’t stomach food for three weeks. I couldn’t stand to be in the kitchen cooking dinner for my family. My stomach kept heaving. I picked at pathetic morsels I’d put on my plate so my family wouldn’t notice. I lost weight rapidly, my cheeks became gaunt and my hair and skin looked lifeless. I went for my nightly walks, taking the dog with me. I sat on the bank’s edge by the creek and bawled my eyes out. My family needed me, but I couldn’t give them anything of.
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