He awoke in a pool of sweat and as usual, the sheets bore the evidence of his restlessness: moist with the dew of his discontent. Cash stared at the ceiling, going over every detail of the ornamental crown molding that decorated the corners of his bedroom.
"I'll never get her out of my mind. Never."
It was then that he realized that he failed to clear the web history on his laptop. A sudden flash of panic mixed with humilation coursed through his body, catapulting him into the hallway towards the second bedroom-turned-office. It was too late. She had beat him there and had logged on.
"Cash, honey? Why were you looking at 'Nasty Grannies' on the internet?"
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