We sat down and watched TV for a while after she ate. I grabbed another beer, and began talking about my work day. “Well since you asked, my day was pretty annoying. Just a lot of bullshit at the office.” Ashely replied “Oh shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t even ask. What happened?” I half-heartedly told her part of the issue, my main point was what was with her attitude. While watching TV, her body language was sending red flags all over the place, she was seated away, barely looking at me, and kind of had a red tint to her; plus I couldn’t get that smell out of my nose so to speak. “Ashley, what is your deal tonight? Are you mad at me or something? You have barely said two words to me.” I asked.As I asked this, tears began to well up in her eyes and I then scooted over to her to comfort her. She fell into my arms and says “I am sorry. I cheated on you.” These words may have well been daggers in my ears. I guess I knew the smell all along but didn’t want to admit it to myself, cum; and worse. The planning kept me up nights, and each day I spent enjoying the local dining and sights.Eventually it was time to leave, and I pulled out from Holly Bluff marina. I waved goodbye to Rick and Judy Armstrong who stood on their long dock to see me off, and motored north which is downstream on the Saint John's River.The days slipped by in a wonderful, lazy, haze. I cruised north until I exited the Saint John's and was traveling on the Intercostal. I slept late if I felt like it, stopped early if I wanted to, pulled up to cities, towns, and other interesting places, but I rarely spent any time with people.Even if I wasn't feeling lonely, I was certainly on a lonely mission.It would have been perfect, but that all changed one rainy day.Somewhere on the Intercostal, passing through the lowlands above Savannah, Georgia, I looked back at a bridge I had just passed under. I saw two men throw a dog, or something, wrapped in a rug, off the bridge into the water. They were already gone before I.
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