Kate wasn’t malicious. She’d never do anything to intentionally hurt me. It’s beyond her to destroy artwork. But she’d become so competitive—comparing my sales numbers to hers. It’s like she saw everything I did as a standard against which she had to measure up. If she’d seen it when she came back from California, she might have done anything. The painting would be safe, but it would never be seen again.But I couldn’t confront her. I was so afraid I’d lose her. What the fuck am I thinking?Fuck! I couldn’t let anyone know about the painting. I’d never be able to paint like that again. I couldn’t explain what the painting was or why I’d painted it. I’d have all my family suspecting each other because everyone would deny it. And I’d still be suspecting everyone else. And everyone would hate me for suspecting a family member. Kate, Lissa, and Wendy had come back to Seattle after only three days in San Fran. Shit! If anything happened to the painting in that time it was ruined. I’d put so. Ben spoke tentatively. "Sarah, I hope I didn't—" He was interrupted by the sounds of lips smacking. Ben wasn't sure what was going on. He had thought she was alone, but her husband was obviously there. Ben immediately felt a little guilty being so bold with the sex talk over the phone while she was at home with her husband. Sometimes his libido overshadowed his boundaries. His first impulse was to hang up, but he listened a while longer. They were kissing. He could hear the lip smacking and both of them breathing heavy through their noses. Ben's heart leapt into his chest as it dawned on him what they were doing. He was listening to the sounds of foreplay. But, why wasn't Sarah hanging up the phone? He listened for awhile longer and considered whether he should say anything to Sarah. Swishing sounds from the room, which he surmised was the sound of Aaron's clothes coming off as they kissed their way into the bedroom, filled Ben's earpiece. More kissing followed, then a moan from.
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