FINALLY, I almost squealed as she looked at me as if I WERE THE MORON, a look I have grown quite accustomed to over the years. I finally got your attention. Now all I need is that name. DISH – -NOW.

She slowly pushed the chair back with her knees and slowly started walking around the table toward me. Stopping the pacing, I stood my ground as she faced me, nose to nose, looking me directly in the eye. She removed her glasses and I removed mine, like a couple of old West gunslingers preparing for battle. So close was she that again the smell of fresh fruit permeated the small air space between us when she exhaled. And I wondered if she could smell my hands as I did not wash them as previously instructed. Neither of us blinked but from my peripheral vision I could see Elvis sitting, staring, moving his head back and forth as if he were watching a tennis match.

Proof? she asked in a high pitched voiced I barely recognized. What proof, you idiot? There can be no proof since there is no name because I am not cheating, SO THERE right back atcha.

For one brief moment my life flashed before me . . All the good times, all the bad times, all the shrink sessions, the work worries, the dilemmas I face on a daily basis and ALL THOSE EPISODES OF L FROM THE FIRST TWO SEASONS. As if I were about to die, again, I saw flashes of light, I felt the heat of frustration and the need for satisfaction. In a flash I re-read every stinkin fan fic story that hooked me like a fish to the site oh so long ago. I felt as if my life were about to end because I am the liar, the cheater, the weak and pathetic piece of ***** addict yet there stood my lover, my friend, my wife, my life, lying to me about cheating.

WHAT PROOF? she asked again with a little more dictator-like authority.

I HAVE HERPES, K, HERPES, I screamed it so loud that I think the entire neighborhood heard. HOWS THAT FOR PROOF YOU LITTLE CHEATIN, SLUTTIN, ELVIS-STEALIN, STOOGE LOVIN CHEATER. I HAVE HERPES AND I DIDNT GET IT FROM A TOILET SEAT.

Ks mouth opened so wide I could see her tonsils. She stepped back, closed her mouth and bit her bottom lip, never moving her eyes from mine. And just before I was about to tell her I was going to kill her, I think she laughed. . . .

T.B.C. (unfortunately)