Four Wives

by Wendy Walker

  Still, as she searched for the date of his writing, she felt the pull within her, the unabated excitement as she imagined answering his call before the month’s end’hearing his voice, then seeing his face, this time with nothing standing between them. She was a damned schoolgirl again, a wise schoolgirl, but still so easily carried away by the daydreams that were sneaking into her thoughts. After everything she had seen, everything she’d been through, and the mountain of evidence that was undeniable, irrefutable’there she was, just the same. Standing on the edge of a deep pool of possibilities.

  Knowing she would dive in.