Jolene came along for support, which I now welcomed. Atfirst, her involvement was obvious to be another way for mywife to humiliate me for losing the bet. Now, however, Ihad begun to rely on her in much the same way I did atwork-to keep me sane.My wife had Jolene and I sit at a small table decoratedwith a delicate tea set. The chairs were small with roundburgundy velvet cushions, forcing one to sit verycarefully. Joanne's assistant, Cheryl, approachedhesitantly, smiling. I don't think she had ever had a malebride customer before. "Do you need help on this, Joanne,or do you want to handle this yourself?" Don't be silly," Joanne told Cheryl. "Of course I willneed you. Vanessa here is a very high maintenance bride.Let's take those dresses I mentioned off the racks and putthem outside the dressing room. I need to get Vanessa setup with some foundation garments."I found myself in a different dimension as Joanne left togather some examples of foundation garments. Unlike theoffice with its. Two other rooms with a bed each and a chest, little else. Staggering back to the first room, beginning to sway. Maybe I have pushed myself too hard, too fast. The heat, the cut above my eye, this damned pain. Squinting, bringing my hands to my face, a lightness to my thoughts. Barely feeling the thud of meeting the floor, I fall into a well of darkness. Whispers filling the air as shadows pass over me, hands piling and grabbing. The heat building around me, feeling like I’m drowning, being swallowed, silent screams, my heart pounding . Launching up, eyes trying to adjust, feeling warm hands on my bare chest. Panting and gasping, eyes coming to focus on…an angel? Soft eyes meet mine, words like never had I heard before. All I understand is the sound ‘…shhhhhhhh…’So soothingly and suggestive that I have no choice but to lean back. watching her , hands pulling the blanket up over me, just to my chin. Then raising one hand to her face, forking her fingers, drawing them over her eyes so.
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