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fucking epic," he says, throwing his other arm up and over his forehead in exhaustion. "Maybe I need to send your ass to San Pedro more often," he says with a playful tease in his tone.
    This is totally different.
    "Oh yeah? Why's that?" I reply smiling as I revel in this post-orgasmic glow. I am feeling grateful that things between us seem to be better than before.
    "Because the welcome-home sex is just that awesome," he says, giving me a smack on the butt. "You wore this old man out."
    I raise myself up on one elbow and trace a fingernail lightly over his chest. "After that how can you possibly refer to yourself as an old man?" I ask incredulously.
    "You're right," he replies, "You keep me in shape. I won't ever let you go."
    He rolls away from me, and launches his lean frame from the bed. "How about we share a shower and then share tales of our holidays with one another?" he asks, heading toward the bathroom. "We've got some catching up to do."
    "Yeah, sounds good," I reply, getting up ready to follow him, feeling my brow furrow with confusion.
    "Would you grab some clean clothes for me?" he asks, nodding towards the dresser in my bedroom where he keeps clean boxers, tee shirts, socks and sweats. "I'll get the shower going for us."
    "Sure thing," I call back to him before he closes the bathroom door behind him. I'm distracted by the fact that he wants to share holiday vacation stories.
    This is definitely new.
    And weird.
    It dawns on me that maybe Hayden has made some sort of New Year's resolution on my behalf. I mean, we've been sexual for several years, but intimacy like this has always seemed to elude us.
    I brighten at the thought that this just might be the turning point our relationship so desperately needs. I'm optimistic that things will be better than ever. And maybe, just maybe I'll finally get the intimacy and love that I crave.
    Can any one person be that lucky?
    I'm still thinking those thoughts as I gather clean clothes for the both of us and head back towards the bathroom, tripping over Hayden's shoes.
    I stoop to pick up his trousers that are pooled on the floor at the foot of my bed and his wallet falls out.
    It's a new leather wallet. A Christmas gift no doubt from a member of his family, maybe even from his wife, Emily.
    I drop the clean clothing onto the bed, and start to put the wallet back into the pocket of his trousers when something makes me stop.
    I'm not a snoop by nature. Believe me; in the three years since I've assumed the role of Hayden's mistress, I've never snooped through his pockets, or driven by his home, or phoned his house and hung up on whoever answered--that is simply not my style.
    I don't even ask him questions about his family. He shares bits and pieces of his life with me as he sees fit, and I don't ask for more than what he's willing to give. But something propels me in this instant to look in his wallet and I don't know why.
    With a flick of my wrist the bi-fold wallet opens and I immediately see that there's a picture inside the clear plastic window. It is marked as "Christmas 2014" in script at the bottom.
    It's Hayden and his family all together over the holidays. I recognize Emily from the club, and his youngest daughter Simone who's around twelve leaning against Hayden. I recognize her from the club as well. She's on the swim team. Next to Emily is their son Patrick, I presume, who attends a private high school. If memory serves me correctly, Patrick's a senior, which makes him seventeen I would guess.
    But my eye catches the oldest son; the one Hayden barely ever mentions who is standing on the outside in this photo. I pull the picture out of the plastic and turn it over. I recognize Hayden's neat handwriting on the back.
    Oh my God.
    'Em, Simone, Patrick, and Aaron - Xmas 2014 - Playa del Carmen'
    Playa del Carmen?
    Hayden and his family spent the holidays in Playa del Carmen? That's like six hours away from where I had been staying …. But only four hours from where I