There it was again. As I stepped out of my car, I felt that same feeling that I’d had for the past few days.

I shook it off, even as I looked around me. I laughed nervously. And then with no thought to the fact that I might be making a fool of myself, I leaped into the air and landed facing in the opposite direction.

Except for a few people laughing at me, I saw nothing. There was no one in the area who seemed to be even remotely interested in me.

After collecting myself and restoring my dignity, I headed into the crowded mall. Although I’d been busy, I needed one more gift to make this Christmas really special.

Most of the gifts had been bought online and shipped ... I laughed at the thought of her unknowingly wrapping her own presents, believing they were for someone else.

I laughed again remembering how she’d grumbled and called me lazy. She had no idea that nearly everything that came to the house was hers. And also, since I’d had her wrap them in the unopened shipping boxes, she had no idea what any of them were.

This was our third Christmas together and she deserved any and everything I could give her. But this last item ... it was something she’d wanted for a long time. And as much as I wished that I could give her the thing she wanted most ... she’d have to settle for this. And even this couldn’t be official or legal. It would have to be something just between the two of us. It was also the last shred of my past being overwritten as we looked to the future.

I know what Diana wanted, what she dreamed of. But going back home was the one thing I couldn’t give her. So, she deserved everything else.

I left the store shaking my head. Inflation was such a bitch. The smarmy salesman in the store deserved my foot up his ass. He was all smiles.

He found me exactly what I wanted, very quickly. He asked if I wanted a payment plan and I just smiled back at him.

“Okay Sir,” he smiled, thinking about his commission. “That’ll be four thousand, two hundred-eighty-three dollars ... and seventeen cents ... plus tax!”

My head exploded and I looked at him like he was crazy. “You’re kidding right?” I asked. He shook his head.

“But I just bought one of these a few years ago and...” I whined.

“The price goes up every year, Sir,” he said. “Look at it as an investment!”

“But this is more than I paid for a second car back then,” I said. “And it wasn’t that long ago.”

“So how much was the price of a model-T in ... what year were we talkin’ about again?” he smirked.

“Two thousand,” I spat.

“Sir that was twenty years ago,” he laughed. “Everything was cheaper then. It’s a whole new world, gramps. Do you want it or not?”

“Why are you calling me Gramps,” I hissed. “I’m only forty. And you’re an asshole.”

“Maybe so,” he smirked. “But I’m the asshole who’s holding something you want. You know you want it. And I know you want it. I can always tell. I’m the best salesman in this store, and experience tells me that you are not leaving this store without it. You have to have it.”

“You sure you’re the best salesman in the store?” I asked. He smirked again and nodded.

“That’s great news for me,” I said.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because you can’t be the best without having someone to be compared to,” I smirked, as hard as he had. “You’re right asshole. I’m not leaving this store without it. But I don’t have to buy it from you!”

I walked across the store, leaving him where he stood. I smiled at a girl standing in front of the other counter.

“Miss, can you ring something up for me?” I asked.

She smiled and followed me to the other counter, where the best salesman in the store looked on in shock.

“Bu ... b ... buh...” he moaned.

“Sir, this item is on sale,” she said. “The sale brings the price down to four thousand flat,” she smiled. “And once I put my special customer discount on it, you’ll save another five percent. So, it’ll be thirty-eight hundred dollars ... wait a minute, I’ll be back.” She went into the back of the store.

“Buh ... bu ... bu?” blabbered the best salesman in the store.

“Sir, it’s Christmas,” she said when she returned. “That’s the rock bottom, best price I can get you, but my boss agreed that we can eat the taxes too.”

“Wrap it up,” I said handing her a credit card. While she ran my card, I looked through my wallet.

“Thanks so much,” I said as she handed me both the bag and my card back. I slipped her two fifties when she did, not knowing if the store allowed tipping.

“Abbey, you’re an angel,” I said, reading her name tag. “Whenever I come into this store, I’m gonna ask for you.”

“But ... buh ... bu?” Continued the best salesman in the store.

“Buh buh bye, jerk!” I said as I passed him. “How much commission did you just lose?”

Strangely enough, while I’d been inside of the mall, the feeling of being followed had gone. But as soon as I spotted my car, it was back. I’d seriously begun to believe that it was psychological.

Maybe I was plagued with guilt. Afterall, I had a nearly perfect life, but I’d committed a very great moral sin on the path to achieving it. Actually, there had been two of them ... sins I mean. And although I regret neither of them, I still felt guilty about them both.

I was sure that my feeling of being followed, had a lot to do with that guilt.

I’d been raised to be a good man ... and a moral one. So, my act of selfishness, and anger ... or at least the guilt I felt, and yet had never expressed or apologized for haunted me.

My car cheered me up as it always did. Every time I saw that car I smiled. Perhaps that was why I’d been unable to leave it behind as I left my former life behind me.

She no longer looked the same way as she did when I bought her. The 2013 Boss 302 came in only a few colors. Even among the then new generation of Mustangs, she was a rarity.

Unlike the Mustang GT and the ultimately powerful GT 500, they were only made for 2 years. And even though the car was naturally aspirated, it was designed for track days and handling the twisties or road courses.

So, she was easily beaten by the 500 on a drag strip, but the tables turned, and she outperformed the Shelby on a road course.

I loved the car. So much so that there was never a thought of leaving her behind when I left my former life.

Conventional wisdom and common sense told me that I should have left her behind. I mean who brings a flashy, limited edition muscle car with them, when they go on the run? It would be like painting a target on myself. But I loved her too much to leave her. So, like me, she had to wear a disguise.

As I said, the Boss came in limited color schemes. There was also the fact that the Boss had a very distinctive stripe package. So, without the stripes and painted as red as a prostitute’s lipstick, only a true Mustang lover would recognize her.

It was the whole hide in plain sight thing, only reworked. The people looking for me knew that I drove a black Boss 302. And since the Boss didn’t come in that shade of red ... it wasn’t me.

It had worked for the entire time that I’d been on the run, so I didn’t question it that day either. I just got in my car, chalked the feelings of being followed, up to guilt and drove home.

I wove in and out of traffic, leaving only the sound of my rich and beautiful exhaust note as payment for my passing.

A few moments later, with the present hidden away in one of my pockets, I walked into the condo I was renting. I often marveled at the pure joy of getting to drive my car year-round.

Back in Michigan, my car would be wrapped up and protected by a car cover, in a heated garage for another four to five months.

I took off my light jacket and flung it onto the sofa, clapping my hands, both loudly and sharply, twice.

She appeared then, hugging the edge of the doorway of the room she’d just left.

It was funny, her expression at seeing me, mirrored the one I’d had when I saw my car outside of the mall. The way she looked at me, and the mirthful expression on her face, as she stretched and preened in the doorway, reminded me of a large cat.

She yawned and regarded me as if she hadn’t known I was there, even though we both knew that she’d responded to the sound of my claps.

“Is that how this works now?” she asked. “You just clap your hands and I’m supposed to come out here and give you some... ?”

“I never said anything ab...” I stuttered.

“Oh no, Buddy,” she cooed. “It’s too late to change things now. After all, that’s how you got me this way...” she pointed, using both of her index fingers at the slight bump at her lower abdomen, that marred the slim yet curvy perfection of her twenty-two-year-old body.”

At forty, and eighteen years older, the average person would have been at least mildly shocked that we were together. I mean ... Shit! I still was. She was also a major component of that guilt, I carried.

I could just hear the recrimination and outrage in the voices most people would use to describe my situation. “You abandoned your wife of twenty years, to run off, without reason or warning, with a girl who’s a few weeks younger than your fucking daughter... ? Have you no shame?

There it was ... the voice of my guilt speaking loudly and clearly.

“It’s pretty clear that one of us is unenlightened,” she said, snapping me from my guilt. “One of us thinks that as soon as you get home, we’re gonna end up on that couch ... just fucking!”

The last two words were delivered in closer to a growl than actual speech.

“But I never sai...” I began.

“Okay, so it was me,” she smiled. “Barry, I don’t care what you said, thought or were about to say. I’ve been looking at words all day long. I don’t need any fucking words from you. I want action. I want you in me. I’m yours and more importantly ... you’re mine.

I’m pregnant and horny and I want YOU ... NOW! So, get on that couch mister.”

“What about the bed that we’re still paying for?” I asked as she started towards me.

“I have a lot of the baby stuff and some presents I was wrapping spread out on the bed and we don’t have time to move them before I explode,” she whined. “And we’re gonna get especially nasty this time!”

I looked at her, wondering ... not the first time ... how she gone from a sweet, nineteen-year college girl, to the sexually charged woman that I was almost afraid of.

Diana was tiny and beautiful. Her pale skin, freckles, and blue eyes contrasted with her waist length, raven’s wing black hair.

“It’s your fault,” she whined. “You didn’t come home for lunch and you’re twenty minutes late, now...”

“I ... buh ... buh...” I stuttered, reminding myself of the best salesman at the store I’d just left.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” she said. “Just get over here and kiss m...”

We were being drawn together like magnets, but we froze immediately as someone knocked on our door.

The voice was freakishly loud, female and unfortunately ... familiar. I stuck one pointed finger in front of my lips and Diana went silent. She also slipped back into our home office where she’d been working when I first came in. Diana works as a copy editor. Her assignments are e-mailed to her, so she doesn’t have to leave home to work.

“Barry, I know you’re in there,” said the voice becoming louder. “My PIs have been following you for days. They finally got me your address. We need to talk. This doesn’t have to get ugly. A lot of things have changed. It might not be as bad as you think it is. You can either let me in ... or I can start talking about our business out here in the hall. Are you sure you want your neighbors to know what you did?”

I opened the door and glared at her. She took that as an invitation and pushed her way past me.

She looked around the apartment. There were no personal items on display anywhere in the living room or kitchen and I had no intention of letting her know that Diana was with me.

“You look surprisingly good for a man who abandoned his wife and child,” she said. “Here I thought you’d changed into some kind of monster. I mean the man I married would never have just deserted his family...”

Looking at her as she looked at me, I wanted to say something, but I was tongue tied. Phyllis HAD changed. After the birth of our daughter Tammy, she’d picked a few pounds.

The baby weight, as she called it, had never left. In fact, it had increased over the years, but I never cared. I loved her. Things were fine for a while. We were an average suburban family. We talked about having another child, but it never happened.

When Tammy got a bit older, maybe when she hit middle school, our sex life took a sharp downturn. We’d never been one of those couples who burned up the sheets, but we slowly cut it down to once or twice a week and then down to once or twice a month.

I never said anything. I had the idea that Phyllis was going through something. I mean all through school she’d been an odd duck. Getting older and becoming ... uhm ... chunky, had to have been hell on her self-image.

We’d actually met through my band. Our drummer had graduated and didn’t see the band as anything more than a way to get girls and beer money.

Strangely enough, before the stool behind the drum kit was cold, Phyllis marched into our rehearsal room and told me she wanted to be our drummer.

I laughed because we had several really good drummers lined up to audition for us. But I didn’t want to get the feminists on campus upset, so I agreed to give her a listen.

She wasn’t the worst drummer I’d ever heard, but she was nowhere near the middle. In fact, of the three drummers I was considering, she probably placed sixth. That meant that there were my top three prospects, a guy or two that I had already abandoned as not being good enough ... then Phyllis.

I was trying to figure out a diplomatic way to break it to her, but I was sure she already knew.

“Okay, I’m probably not what you’re looking for in terms of pure musical skill,” she said. “But you can work with me, to get me where you need me to be. And there are other things to consider.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“Music is more than music,” she said. “There’s presentation, gimmicks and sex appeal. Think about it. Instead of being just another campus band, you’d be that band with the girl drummer. You’d be that band with the slutty girl drummer. Guys would come to see us just to see if my boobs were gonna come out. Plus ... just for working with me and helping me to get better...”

She’d been moving closer to me as she spoke. Her face was close to mine. “I’d fuck the living shit out of you ... any and every time you wanted it.”

She lived up to her word. Phyllis had the literal tightest pussy I’d ever been in. Even though we were both college students, Phyllis was really tight. Sometimes I felt like I was the only guy who’d ever fucked her.

It was an unusual arrangement and I wondered what she’d do when I graduated that spring. But wondering about it was time wasted because just before my graduation, we discovered that Phyllis was pregnant.

We did the normal thing and told our parents about it. We told mine first and they were supportive but guarded. I’m not sure my mom really liked Phyllis.

Telling her parents was another thing entirely. “Mom ... Dad ... This is Barry,” she said. Both of her parents broke out in smiles. Her father shook my hand and her mother hugged me.

“Uhm ... I’m pregnant,” she said.

“YES JEEZUS!” shouted her dad. He leaped up and high fived his wife. He shook my hand again and started rubbing my shoulders. It was an odd reaction to meeting a guy you’d never heard of who’d gotten your daughter pregnant.

They were even more shocked when I got down on one knee and asked Phyllis to marry me. I don’t think they were as shocked as Phyllis was.

As a matter of fact, everyone we knew was shocked. Including her best friends. I chalked it up to Phyllis being really into her music and like most wannabe rock stars, she’d never considered having a family or anything other than the rock and roll lifestyle.

That was what I’d thought. But things with Phyllis were always odd, so when she never touched a drumstick again after we got married, I never really gave it a thought. We were just another average suburban couple with a much-loved daughter.

Surprisingly, a lot of our friends, both hers and mine, reacted strangely. Some of them laughed. It gave me the weirdest feeling. It was almost like they knew something that I didn’t. Others just shook their heads and turned their eyes skyward, as if asking God to tell me something they couldn’t or ... wouldn’t.

But not being a fool, I gave it some thought. And what I came up with wasn’t pretty. It all boiled down to how easily Phyllis had started fucking me. Maybe she was fucking a bunch of other guys too.

So ... I asked her about it. She erupted in laughter and couldn’t stop. Every time she looked at me, she burst out laughing again.

After she calmed down, she sat down with me and looked into my eyes. “Barry, this wasn’t what I planned,” she said seriously. “I’m sure it wasn’t what you planned either. I mean this thing between us ... it just happened ... out of nowhere. We went from strangers ... to FWB bandmates ... and even after I really got in the band, for some reason we kept fucking.

Barry, I have to be honest with you now...”

My heart lurched as I waited for the other shoe to drop.

“This is kind of embarrassing,” she said. “I’m sorry I never told you ... but you were kind of...

“Stupid!” I said. “Trusting and stupid ... I...”

“I thought I was talking,” she said. “Barry, you weren’t stupid. And your trust in me is one of the things that makes us work. I was about to tell you that you...”

“That I’m SPECIAL to you,” I hissed. “When we fuck it’s like cotton candy and angels and unicorns, while all the other guys just fuck you ... right?”

She started laughing again. “I think you’re going through something, Barry, so I’m gonna give you one more chance. I’ve been trying to tell ... Look, Barry you were the first guy I ever fucked. And since we started, no other guy has touched me. You’re the only guy I’ve ever had and...”

The top of my head blew off and suddenly I felt like shit for accusing her.

“You were a vir...” I was almost in tears. I collapsed. And the next thing I knew, she was hugging me.

“What’s wrong, Barry?” she asked.

“Don’t you understand?” I croaked. “You gave me a really special gift and I ... I turned it into just a fuck. You should have told me.”

“Barry, I was embarrassed,” she said. “At our age, being a virgin is kind of weird. People look at you sideways and the first thing that goes through their minds is the fact that if nobody has fucked you by then, it’s because there’s something wrong with you. Okay you were my first. It doesn’t matter because I want you to be my last too ... and my ONLY man ... for life!”

I was floored.

“Barry, forget about my dumbassed friends,” she smirked. “I caused all of that shit. I’ve been telling them for as long as I’ve known most of them that I was never gonna get married or have kids, and now it just seems like I’m the first to do either of those things.

Let’s not worry about what they think, let’s just live OUR life. Let’s raise our child, get married and do us.”

Tammy grew up to be a pretty, well-adjusted girl who was exceedingly popular. She and I were very close. And her best friend Diana, was almost a second daughter to me.

Diana spent a lot of time with us. Her mom worked insane hours as a nursing assistant at a local hospital. She had to, because her father, an abusive drunk type had bailed on them before Diana was four years old.

A series of stepfathers, none of whom was worth a damn, followed.

Tammy going off to college, changed everything. With her out of the house, Phyllis and I grew distant. A further diminishing of our sex life, pushed us even further apart.

And then one day, I came home and found something I’d never expected. Walking into my house, I heard sounds coming from the bedroom that I hadn’t heard in years.

It had been weeks since we’d had sex, and even then, Phyllis hadn’t been that vocal in years. And it wasn’t just that. Her level of arousal was off the charts.

The entire house smelled like pussy. And there was a trail of her clothing that started in the doorway, with another item or two strewn carelessly about the living room leading up to the stairs.

It was a pattern that I’d seen before. She’d used it on me when we were younger, and she still loved me.

I remember rushing home together. She’d stopped just inside the doorway and opened her blouse. She’d wrapped her arms around me squeezing those large pillow-like breasts against my chest and kissed me until I was dizzy.

She’d laughed when we came up for air and dropped her blouse on the sofa revealing them to me. “Wanna feel ‘em... ?” she gushed, knowing the answer already.

I’d mauled and squeezed those lace covered mountains until my dick was as hard as a diamond.

And then I’d tried to take her bra off, to find that she’d pushed me away and headed for the stairs. At the bottom of the staircase, she’d paused and smiled at me, before taking off the bra she’d been so intent on keeping.

Just seeing her boobs, made me even hotter. I had to have her.

“Barry come over her and play with my titties some more,” she gushed. There on the stairs she rubbed my dick almost causing me to lose it.

Her nipples were talking to me. I never could keep my hands off of them. With one hand I reached under her skirt, to find that her panties were soaking wet.

“Stop that,” she whined. “You’re nasty.” She enjoyed teasing me. But sometimes, I couldn’t tell if she was serious or not.

She would grab my pants again, to tease me, and shimmy out of her skirt. I loved it when she turned around and gave me a view of that big round ass of hers.

I’d follow it up the stairs only to find those same soaked panties in the doorway of our bedroom.

And once I got into the room, I found her waiting for me, as naked as a jaybird. From then onwards, it was up to me. Phyllis was great at the whole teasing and seduction game, but that was it. When it came down to the actual intercourse, she was much more tentative. She was more like the “lie there and take it,” type.

So that day, I knew what I’d find if I climbed those stairs. It all made sense then. I knew why she no longer teased me. I knew why our sex life was more easily tracked with a calendar than a watch.

She’d found herself another man. The reason that she wasn’t having sex with me ... was because she was giving it all to him. My heart was beating so loudly in my chest that I could barely feel anything else.

My anger grew to a level so high that I wanted to kill him. I wanted to kill her as well. But I couldn’t kill her. She was Tammy’s mother, and I loved my daughter more than anything.

I did wonder who he was. And why she thought he was better than I was. But in the end ... who he was didn’t matter. At least not to me. Apparently though, I was the one who didn’t matter.

So, I decided, that with Tammy away in school, I’d do what I always did. I’d give Phyllis what she wanted. I would walk away so she could be with him.

I left the house and called her. I told her that I had a work emergency and wouldn’t be home until the next evening.

“Alright, Honey,” she said. The joy in her voice was hard for her to hide. “See you tomorrow. Maybe we’ll do something special.”

“You bet,” I said sadly. The last thing I needed was one of her pathetic mercy fucks, after she’d spent the whole night screwing whoever she had up there.

I spent the rest of the afternoon making plans. I moved all of my money into different accounts. I’ve heard that in a divorce, everything is supposed to be split 50/50. But she was staying in the house, until we figured it all out. And I’d have the problem of finding someplace to live and setting it up.

Back in my office, I looked at our corporate website. Fortunately, our company had offices and plants all over the country. I put in an application for an opening in a Southern state and continued making my plans.

I had to work quickly, and my anger and outright disgust, with Phyllis only grew over that night.

There were several things I needed to work out before I left, but I was just trying to stay on my feet and keep it moving.

One of the biggest problems was my cars. There was no question of leaving my Mustang behind, but I was barely able to fit anything in its tiny trunk. I’d planned on loading everything I could fit into my SUV, and my original plan was to rent a trailer to tow my Mustang behind it.

The problem I ran into was that a lot of the U-Haul places wanted to charge me an arm and a leg to return the trailer to this area and I didn’t really feel like driving all of that distance twice. Especially since I didn’t really have a firm idea yet where I’d be staying.

But if I had to, I’d just pay it. Little did I know, that wasn’t going to be a problem. That morning, I watched as Phyllis came out of the house and cheerfully got into my SUV, ruining my plans.

I quickly, called her and told her Good Morning. She sounded tired, but energetic at the same time. Whoever she was fucking obviously had her all lit up.

“Honey, I just called to tell you not to take my truck,” I said. “I shouldn’t have driven the Mustang on a long road trip. My check engine light is on. I’m gonna have to put it in the shop, so whenever you leave, take YOUR car.”

“Oh Crap,” she said. “Well alright Honey. You’re gonna have to figure out one day which one of us is more important to you. You can’t spoil me AND that car.”

The next twenty minutes were awesome. I watched as Phyllis tried again and again to start her car. Finally, the engine roared to life with a huge puff of black smoke coming not only from the exhaust system, but from under the car as well.

She took off driving slowly down our street, with the engine sounding as if it was gonna stall at any moment.

As soon as she was off the street, I parked the Mustang in front of the house and started loading the SUV. My biggest problem was figuring out what NOT to take. I had too many years of living in this house and accumulating stuff.

I had to realize that there were stores wherever I ended up. Once I got it all packed, I called my uncle who lived across town and told him I needed a favor.

I drove the Mustang to his house, and he drove me back to my house. I followed him back to his house and left the SUV in his driveway.

I drove the Mustang the ninety miles to East Lansing, so I could have a last visit with my daughter. There was no way possible for me to leave without seeing her.

I explained to her what I was doing, without telling her why. Tammy and I were pretty close, but I didn’t want to put her in a position of trying to not tell Phyllis anything about why I left.

There was also the fact that I was embarrassed about it. I mean what guy wants to try to explain to anyone that his wife is fucking another guy.

Strangely enough, it didn’t come up. She accepted it; a lot easier than I’d expected.

“She’s being a bitch to you too, huh Daddy?” she said. “I wondered how long you were gonna take it. But maybe this is exactly what she needs to get her attitude together and realize that if she treats us like shit, she’s gonna end up alone.”

I hugged her and told her that she had nothing to worry about. I would still pay all of her expenses. She already had a credit card that I was paying for her, and I could put money on her debit card through the banking app on my phone. I’d have a new phone number in a couple of days, and I’d call or text her the number as soon as I got it. In the meantime, she could still call or text my current number. I had blocked her mother, but not her.

I decided that I could afford the time it would take to take her and her roommate out to lunch, one last time. I smiled at Diana, who was like a second daughter to me. Surprisingly, she didn’t smile back. I chalked it up to the weirdness and mood swings that women in their twenties go through.