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One Saturday morning, after a night of restlessness and not sleeping, I did something I thought I'd never do, I picked up the phone, and dialed a number. I got his voice mail, "Fourteen, it's Andrea, Andrea Proctor. I've missed you."

Was he not home? With another woman? I couldn't blame him or her for that. Ten minutes later he called me back. "Andrea, are you okay? You sound distressed."

"Fourteen, I made a big mistake." I was sniffling.

"I'll send a car for you. He'll be there in an hour."

"Thank you, Fourteen."

I took a shower, packed a few things, just in case Fourteen invited me to spend the night. I was hoping.

I was surprised when the driver opened the back door of the car, and Fourteen was inside.

On the ride to the Watergate, I told him what happened. I didn't leave anything out, including what Daniel said.

"How crass? I didn't think even American men were that vulgar." ...

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