He says he wants a woman this time. His past two wives have been girls, but this time he wants a woman. A partner, he says, someone to meet him halfway. He says he's weary of providing everything, especially all the opinions. He says I'm intelligent. He likes my mind, my independence, even says I'm sexy. In less than a month he's decided that I'm the one. But I have my doubts walking down Rehoboth Avenue. Three feet in front, he leads me as if I were his wagon.
When we first fell in love, I saw myself in the gleams of his eyes. Those shining brown eyes smiled lovingly at me through the years. Whether I was dressed in crinoline-puffed skirts; slim sheaths with high heels; nothing; maternity clothes; miniskirts with boots, old jeans, or business suits. Oh, how I wish they could see me in my elastic waist pants and sensible shoes.
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