My parents were very preoccupied with what other people thought of them and lived their lives to please everyone around them. They instilled that in me from a young age. I was always a good girl. I studied hard, got good grades, and married by the time I was 24. My parents had every reason to be proud of me.
Lance, my husband, is a quiet man. He is a contractor and away from home a lot. He is loyal, hard working and totally devoted to me. Since he makes such a good salary I didn't have to work. I didn't mind at all. I spent time with my family and volunteered a lot.
Despite the outward appearance of happiness, I always felt as if something was missing. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I knew that it was lacking. I always suppressed the feeling when it arose by throwing myself into an activity.
One day in October, Lance came home quieter than usual. He had his dinner in silence and watched the news. I knew that he would tell me what was bothering him when he was ready so I busied myself with cleaning the kitchen and tidying up the living room.
After the news he sat down at the kitchen table and motioned for me to join him.
"Judy, we need to talk."
"What's the matter, honey?"
"I got an offer today to head construction on a big project in Las Vegas. It's a new hotel that they are building and it means big bucks. If we do this, we'll be set for life. But it also means that we will have to move to Vegas for the duration of construction."
Through dry lips I asked:
"How long would that take?"
"Approximately 3 years."
