A year later, we married, I just turned eighteen, he twenty-three. I’ve never known another man. Now twenty-five, I’m meeting my first real date....I’m being me, at last. Conversing with myself between stoplights, I rewrote my personal history to justify meeting a man, not my husband.Approaching Michael’s restaurant in Sunnyvale, our meeting place, however, my rationalized confidence dissipated, replaced with timid reality.I’m risking my marriage, family, my world. I should go home. I knew I. The developer, who had built the houses on the cul de sac, asked to get together with Bret. It seemed that the person who owned the twenty acres of land adjoining the backs of the houses had died. The estate was wanting to sell the land. The developer said that realistically, due to the topography, the only ones who could develop it were Bret and his family. No one else would have the needed access to the property. By extending the cul de sac with a one lane road between house C and D they. More

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