Controlling my image, the fucking interview was scripted.”“Your dad?”“Yeah. He means well, but doesn’t really get me.”I couldn’t imagine...how the scion of Australian riding royalty had come to see her fairy-tale life as a gilded cage. “It’s not fun anymore, is it, Sarah?”“It is here, Annie. Not having to act my way through life.”Sarah took my hand, her head resting on my shoulder. “God, Sarah, you sound broken to death.”“Yeah, I guess. I’m so not what I’m expected to be.”“Tell me.” I gently. But after today, I wouldn't be contributing to her embarrassment for some time to come - at least nine months, probably more. That thought gave me pause - I'd be competing for Jeanine's attention with our baby. Losing was a foregone conclusion. Could I handle that? If we started a baby tonight, I'd have nine months to express my concerns.The drive home was all too brief for such thoughts. Parked in the driveway, I could see the flicker of candles in the master bedroom. A single dim lamp showed. More

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