I stared at the folded paper while I took in a mouthful of Scotch and let it burn its way down to my stomach. I took a second swallow before I pick up...the papers off the table and unfolded them.It wasn't what I thought but it wasn't much better. Instead of divorce papers I had been served with a restraining order. The order basically said that I was to have no contact with Carrie. No phone calls, no e-mails, no stopping by her office or the house and I was not to come within fifty feet of. At least for now. In her general scheme of things of course, it was small beer; she knew that. Yet it was a departure from the script just the same. And she was growing less and less fond of departures. As before, when excitement grew so uncertainty waned. At first, lingering germs of doubt had made her uneasy. How could one know, after all? What if the actuality appalled? One thing to dream; another to? But now she did know. Knowing also that her chosen road permitted no u-turns. A fact she. More

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