How an Expensive Gift Made Me Feel Better About Settling For a Much Older Man: Part 2

The best part of this trip with the Stet­son man was that we extended it through the week­end. He made the whole week­end all about me; the world was my oys­ter. On our first free day, he rented a lim­ou­sine to drive us to Atlantic City. My heart warmed remem­ber­ing the week­end. I had pur­chased a mag­a­zine for the drive that con­tained a quiz per­tain­ing to mar­riage and com­pat­i­bil­ity. I had per­suaded him to take the quiz with me. We both answered the ques­tions; we laughed and teased each other about our answers, and finally agreed that we would sur­vive mar­riage, except mar­riage was never an option for us because, even to this day, his divorce isn’t final.

The Stet­son man and I arrived in Atlantic City, the board­walk. I had never been to this part of the coun­try. Every­thing was new and excit­ing. We had lunch and quickly found our­selves at a black­jack table gam­bling. I remem­ber a gen­tle­man tap­ping the Stet­son man on the shoul­der and pointed to the floor under the Stet­son man’s chair where there was a wad of bills—it had to be at least $15,000. The Stet­son imme­di­ately grabbed the pile of cash. He attempted to pay the gen­tle­man for his hon­esty, but he refused to accept any reward.

After gam­bling for a few hours, we ven­tured into the board­walk mall. I was imme­di­ately drawn to the Louis Vuit­ton store. I wan­dered around the store for hours, pick­ing up this bag and those ear­rings, a few pairs of sun­glasses, and what­ever else I could find. Finally, after sev­eral hours, I set­tled on one purse. The Stet­son man wouldn’t hear of it; I ended up with more than I could even carry—we had to ship part of my pur­chases home.

On the way back to Wash­ing­ton, the Stet­son man instructed the limo dri­ver to raise the pri­vacy glass. We made love and cud­dled to pass the hours on our way back to the hotel.  It had been a per­fect few days. I had trea­sured our time together. This was the very moment I real­ized how much in love I was with the Stet­son man.

A knock at the door sud­denly snapped me back to reality—I wasn’t with the Stet­son man, I was here, with the Greek God. I safely tucked the gift card away, and quickly pro­ceeded to read the inside of the card. It was def­i­nitely endear­ing. The Greek God had even signed his own name, which I made note of. It was then that I decided, if you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with.