“I don’t know what’s happened to you—work, husband, whatever—but you have to pull yourself up and right your life. Are you going to give in? Are you going to let life get you down?”
“I’m pretty sure the answer’s yes.” And boy, was it yes. After all, only three days ago, my entire life went down the toilet. Three lousy days. So, I was going to let life get me down for a long time to come. I was going to give in and give in big time. I was even planning on changing my middle name to wallow.
He took my hand on the table and held it in his large hands. “No, you’re not, Eliza.”
His eyes bore through me, right to my battered soul. He was mesmerizing. I trusted him, which wasn’t saying much about his trustability, considering my batting average. I had trusted my husband and what did that get me? “Are you a model?”
“I’m a marine.”
“Oh.” That made sense. There wasn’t any fat anywhere on him. His chest pushed against his t-shirt. I could have bounced quarters off his ass…not that I looked. Okay, maybe I looked once when his back was turned.
