I throw one last look at the couple. Paul isn’t on the balcony anymore. But his wife is, and she is staring right back at me. Intently. With an accusing ferocity. Like she expects me to do something. Has she noticed me staring? Confused, I look behind me to make sure it is me she is looking at. No one else is in sight. Her eyes, big and blue and unrelenting, bore harder into mine. Is this a hostage situation? Unlikely. She looked mighty happy to make out with her husband just a few minutes ago. Is she trying to shame me for watching them? Good luck with that. My conscience
