The shop was empty except for that strange kid, Steve. Hugo's latest little dalliance -- though the boy could be Hugo's son, he looked so young. And there was something so odd about him. Cold? No, aloof, very distant and remote...
"Hugo, these were better days, weren't they? Man, I must have been -- I must have been young."
Pictures. Damn pictures.
I needed to talk to Hugo about those pictures of Andrew and Mark. I've made myself crazy looking at them, wanting alternately to kill Andrew for cheating and then Mark for tempting him. And then I think, 'Geez Eric. What if you're reading too much into this?? It's not Andrew's fault! You don't know if they went any farther than what you see.' What I SEE! What I see in these pictures is my husband next to naked in somebody's car!!!!
And what about Mark? It was so clear to me New Year's Eve when he kissed me that there was a real attraction there, an electrical charge that neither one of us could have anticipated. 'KNOCK IT OFF, ERIC! Stay away from Mark Fitzgerald. One moment's lust is just that - one moment.'
But I have to keep Andrew away from him. He's bad news. But how without looking like some paranoid zealot? I mean, I was the one who invited him to dinner.
I've already decided never to talk to Andrew about either the photos or of what happened with Mark and me. While something in me mistrusts Andrew -- something else would give my life for him and know that he would do the same for me....
Time. Time, Eric. It heals everything and answers many questions.
Oh, God, I'm beginning to sound like a bad fortune cookie.
