2017 08 14 22 54 31

‘Yeah, I’ll see she gets home.’ But Melissa spent the night in my guest bedroom. I had first taken her to her apartment, however her key did not...fit the door. From outside a nearby convenience store I called her stepfather Dave. His ‘Hello?’ came after about four rings. ‘Dave, it’s me, Jeff. Sorry to call so late.’ ‘Oh, no problem, buddy! I’d just turned in myself.’ ‘Look, I’ve got your girl Melissa here with me. She was in a bar, and the guy she was with walked out on her. I hate to tell you. Turns out they'd gotten married about ten years prior. She'd been twenty-five years old, had been scraping by in Cartagena, desperate for a way out, and along had come thirty-seven-year-old Paul. He had been an industrial engineer on his first job in South America, very sweet, secure in his job, and head-over-heels infatuated with the young latina. He had been her way out of poverty. They were married six months later and continued to live in Colombia while he finished his contract job.She had. More

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