“Roger?” I asked in a shaky voice.

“Yes Gloria, it’s me,” he said, softer now.

“You came back. Why?”

“After those five years in India, I realized there was no one else I’d rather be with.” He chanted.

I thought back to the glorious times we had together. The picnics, the opera. Then he left me. Snapping back to the present, I realized that this man was a conman in sheep’s clothing.

“Well, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m sorta busy right now,” I snapped annoyed.

He chuckled at my apparently perturbed aura.

“Come with me. I know you want to.” He said, firmer now. His voice sharp as a razor but yet soft as a song.

“I will never ever- “

The next thing I knew, I was being carried off in a rough wool blanket.