The after party for Tylene's show was held at a place called Benjamin's Manor. Benjamin himself was a big gay bear of a man who worked as a stained glass glazier. His shop was a loft in the cultural district, and the manor he owned used to be part of a vast estate from more than a century ago.

The land around the manor had been sold off by previous owners, while the building itself lay abandoned for decades. Having decayed over the years, Benjamin was able to buy it for a song. It had become uninhabitable, and though still not suited for permanent use, he and his artist friends had fixed the place up enough to allow it to host lavish parties.

Tylene's after show party was the most lavish of all. Oh Love! Cecilia thought into Bob. I'm so glad we're here!

I wish you were really here, Bob thought back.

I know. Me too. But I have to fly to Spain.

Cecilia was a first-class flight attendant who worked on international routes. Within hours, she would be traversing the Atlantic Ocean.

I'm taking Bab with me, she thought into Bob, referring to her therapist. She's excited about seeing Madrid. She's never been overseas!

Bob wondered where his therapist was. He examined the mob of people at Benjamin's, looking for both her and Tylene. He still wore the bombasted hose, with the brocaded shoes now on his feet. Mercifully, he was allowed to not have to wear the doublet, as its collar was too small to fit him. He wore a waistcoat of a different sort, still beige but instead sleeveless, with a loose fitting white poet's shirt underneath. The shirt had a simple cut, made of linen with bishop's sleeves big enough to hide a pumpkin.

The stomacher he wore in the fashion show lay over the shirt but under the waistcoat, and thus was largely hidden. The waistcoat was not cut open in front like the doublet, allowing no way for the stomacher to be showcased. The gold inlaid glass beads strung on tassels, however, hung down below his waist. These could be seen, which was why he'd been instructed to keep wearing the stomacher.

Cecilia had Bob fiddle with the beads so she could admire them. Oh these look so much like Big Ben made them, she thought, referring to Benjamin. He, like Tylene, was another of her successful and very best friends.

Why does everyone have a nickname with you? Bob thought at his wife.

It's fun! It's what we do!

And your therapist is now your friend, Bob thought with certainty, as he could sense Cecilia's feelings as easily as she sensed his.

Yes! She's Bab and you're Bob. And when you're in me, she calls me Seas/Bob.

Bob laughed, enjoying the mirth bubbling in Cecilia. Bab and Bob and Seas/Bob, he thought back.

We're going to have fun on the plane flying to Spain. But then we have to split up. She's going sightseeing, but I have to work.

Bob already began missing his wife. When will you be back?

Oh dear. I don't know. I'll grab a couple jump flights while there, to let Bab spend time having fun. But I have to fly back to the States in a few days, and of course she'll be coming with me.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Bob knew their link soon would break, as brainboarding didn't work over great distances. I'm surprised I still hear you.

We're at a coffee shop very near by, but I have to go in ten minutes. I'll see Bab on the plane, but I won't be with you until we get back.

Bob's heart sunk like a stone as his wife thought her words into him. Having been with him so often in his head, she knew how devoted he was to her. Originally, she had been the one wanting the divorce, which was how they got permission to be brainboarded together.

She now knew with utmost certainty that no one could love her better. Bob's lack of interest in her high society friends had to do with his ignorance of the subject, and nothing to do with her. His love for her was complete.

She had him walk into a room an artist friend of Benjamin's had decorated. Rectangular in shape, one short wall of the room consisted of cupboards while the other housed the doorway to gain entry. The carpet was a maelstrom of blues, with specks of green and white splashes looking like froth. The pattern swirled across the floor, giving the impression of a stormy sea.

The floorspace of the room housed various sculptures and works of art. Benjamin had bought some and others had been given as gifts. He also allowed the room to be used as storage space for his friends. Either way, these items lined one long wall, as the other was reserved for showcasing a bas relief. It spanned the room from end to end, standing floor to ceiling high. Weathered to look like stone and pockmarked with streaks of green in the crevices, the effect was to make it look ancient, like it spent centuries near the sea.

Bob felt Cecilia's heart race as she had him look at the bas relief. He in kind, felt his sink lower. Yet still he examined the piece, for he knew it made his wife happy.

Melancholy, yet happy. The piece depicted a sea nymph, naked from the waist up. Her breasts were young and pert, her eyes sad, yet her face expressed fierceness. From the waist down, one could see why she was sad. Rather than legs and hips, she instead had six massive fishtales, serpentine and writhing in coils. Embossed onto the tails were the faces of men, looking to have died in horror.

The fierceness in the sea nymph's face was depicted by a snarl of hound dogs sprouting from her waist. They stuck out further than any other part of the bas, giving the impression of reaching for the throat of the viewer. Their muzzles were contorted with teeth exposed, looking ready and willing to kill.

Sea snakes sprouted from the nymph's shoulders, rising up to crawl near the ceiling. But Bob kept his focus on the woman's face.

That's you, he felt with certainty.

Cecilia couldn't disagree. She did her best to think nothing to Bob, but it was no use trying to hide the truth. Bob had seen the sculpture before, and also had met the artist.

He fell in love with you.

Again, Cecilia could not disagree. Bob knew this happened often with his wife. Although she was not the right size and shape to be a model, she was as gorgeous as he. Many of the men she met thought they might have a chance with her, upon finding out her husband was a lunkhead when faced with high art. A mid life crisis of sorts had struck when she met the artist who crafted the sea nymph, and he presented it to her as an expression of his desire.

It's why they call you Scylla, isn't it? Bob thought into his wife. He knew it to not be entirely true, but he liked the way she felt when she sought to explain.

The name Scylla started out as a joke. You know—the Greek monster who ate men when they got too close. Then Dean came along and proved it to be true. I ate the hearts of men who got close. Like it was sport for me, I suppose. It made me feel pretty.

You're beautiful Seas. You know that.

I do! But girls often feel insecure.

I never thought you insecure. You're the fiercest person I've ever known.

It's a girl thing, Love. All of us feel it sometimes.

Bob/Seas examined the sea nymph's face, and her perfect pert naked torso.

It looks just like you.

I know.

This Dean guy almost cost us our marriage.

But now, with his sculpture, we know I could never love anyone but you. Any other man, I'd eat their heart.

But not me. Because I ate yours.

My heart is forever yours. I gave it to you when we first met, and you've never let it go.

I love you so much, Seas, I could die. I'd die without your heart in me.

You're perfect for me, Bob. I know. He felt tears welling up in his wife's eyes, knowing both how sorry she was for having doubted him, and how happy she was he didn't let her leave him.

She had him fiddle with the tassels of the stomacher dangling along his waist. Now let's find Ben and ask if he made these pretty beads.

Bob was happy to have the subject changed. I bet he did.

Me too.